


Disrepute

by Birdfluff



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Astral Projection, Autistic The Outsider, Autistic!The Outsider, Blood and Gore, F/F, Hallucinations, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 01:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17633120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdfluff/pseuds/Birdfluff
Summary: There was a shift in their world brought on by Billie Lurk's choice to free the Outsider. The change provoked a strange feeling inside the ones touched by the void. Something is wrong."They look at you through the eye of a dead god. You will never be safe unless you take care of the source, first."-- Anonymous





	Disrepute

Day 28 of The Month of Songs -- Campo Seta Dockyards

Dead. Their world was shrouded with the silence of dead rats around them. They flocked to Billie Lurk even though she could not talk to them anymore. Their squeaking mocked the shrill voices she remembered before she skewered them with a metal barb. The cries pierced through passerby’s ears as the rat’s body fell limp. Looking up, she noted the Outsider was watching the pier again from the edge of the abandoned hotel’s roof.

No, it’s Cheyne. Billie corrected herself as she created fire from the small brambles of sticks.   
They had been living amongst one another for a while. Time has escaped her because of him. Billie rolled her shoulders to keep herself from shivering, protecting him from his own stupidity was ridiculous.   
Although raised on the streets, the Outsider never had the chance to fight or fend for himself effectively. Numerous times he was called a cluts during training. He knew how to fence, something Billie was surprised of, but he was slow on the uptake when the opponent did not give him air to breathe. At those moments, The Outsider-- Cheyne -- froze then he would look to his hand and frown.

If you keep doing that, you’d be dead over a thousand times, she had warned him.

Cheyne looked to her. His eyes bared into her soul like in the old days of being dragged into his reality, into his eyeless sockets. However, those sockets now held a set of hazel eyes that glowed with soul and life. Yet Billie was not sure which set of eyes felt more uncomfortable. After a period of silence, he answered, “I’m sure you know about that plenty, with your line of work. You had taken longer to master what you can do now due to your master’s bias.”

Billie decided not to continue the conversation.

The Outsider-- Cheyne, spoke to her like… as if nothing had changed. She expected a break down but she watched him move along like he planned or rehearsed everything beforehand; what to ask, how to present himself, eat anything she gives him-- By the Void, he could scale buildings! It pissed her off.

And she knew that he knew she was pissed off.

And that made her anger worse.

So they never talked outside of training because of her temper, and Cheyne said nothing to initiate a civil conversation or proposed how to work out this strange symbiotic relationship. Billie gave him shelter, food, clothing. Cheyne cleaned up while she’s out, thanked her for meals, gave her company... 

Billie scoffed and turned over the cooking rats, he’s about as good a company as a rotting corpse, at least he’s appreciative.

Gazing over at him again, Cheyne stood there and stared down at his hands.

The pier or his hands. The pier or his hands. Billie had asked him before if he wanted to go somewhere else. His response: not now. He has been here and has shared nothing about himself. She knew he was struggling to get the grips of morality by the way he gazed fearfully at the armed “gentlemen” who patrol the streets. To watch the Outsider turn into a statue was peculiar-- Her thoughts halted when she finally drew to a conclusion.

He knows fear and anxiety.

“Food’s done,” Billie called out.

Through timidity, Cheyne turned and walked to her side of the roof and settled himself down beside her.

She handed him his morcal on a stick. Mindlessly, Billie tore at the dead rat’s thin skin apart as she looked at him. After each swallow, The Outsider met her gaze, yet his lips did not twitch. Billie sighed hard through her nose and put down the now cleaned off skewer.

“You can tell me what’s bothering you, you know.” The sentiment was thrown out to be met with a nod. Her eye narrowed. “Now.”

Cheyne twirled the stick in between his fingers and gazed onward. Finally hearing his voice made her feel like she had fallen into a frozen over stagnant river. “What do you think is wrong?”

“I think you fear your morality. That’s no problem since most people do. But I think you got a reason why that you’re not telling me. You’re going so far to not even try to walk on the streets because of it and I want to know why. I’ve been trying to help you all this time, you could at least give me a little help in return instead of being a freeloader.”

Cheyne listened with his head slightly towards her direction. He inhaled deeply, “Is that what you’ve gathered?”

“We both know I’m right.”

“Indeed.”

“Are you really trying to avoid this?”

Standing up, Cheyne towered over her. By his hand, he forced her to remain seated when she followed him. His glaring gaze did not cease as he took a few steps away. Crossing her arms, Billie bit her lip and watched his shoulders heavily rise and fall.

“I’m sure you’re familiar with feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders, looking at your former livelihood. You know the stress, the consequence, the fear of failure... You know your limits, you now direct your life however you wish--”

“And you haven’t until now?” Billie finished.

The Out--Cheyne continued as if she had not spoken, “--stealing your needs and wants, exercising your strength to not let any person be above you… I don’t think I wasn’t exactly like that, but I knew the stress, consequence, and fear of life itself. I felt it all rush to me like a fever when I was tied up to that table, my throat stabbed. I’ve watched over, those of my mark going through tribulation.” He held silent. His hands shook and fixated on the cuffs on his sleeves. Billie looked to his quivering lips and his dark eyes that were glued to the sea. “It’s not that any of this is unfamiliar. I have no way to cope. I don’t like it. I don’t like any of this. I don’t miss it. I don’t want to go back, yet I feel like I’m still there. Pacing and pacing and pacing in the Void. I feel nothing just as I did then and that scares me. Every time I look towards the pier, I can hear something calling to me and easing me into a lullaby sung by whales. Then I see a face.”

“A face?”

“Yyes.” His face steadily blushed a red hue.

“... Please don’t tell me you’re in love with the sea?”

Billie almost wanted to laugh at the odd irony of the situation. The Outsider. The Ex-God himself was flustered over being in love with someone so much that it held his tongue. His face puffed up as he retorted, “That is not where I’m going with that!”

“It doesn’t matter to me who you’re in love with, what matters if that you’re--”

“I understand your point.” After composing himself, Cheyne returned, “I would like to venture to Dunwall.”

“Dunwall?” Her tongue handled the word with care. “That’s where the... whales call you to?”

With a look of scrutiny, he nodded.

“And what do you plan to do, steal a ship?”

“That is hardly possible on my own.”

Knocking the grill over, Billie ended the distance between them and leered at how he stared at her so composed. “If you are looking for my help, I refuse. I’m staying right here. I am not stepping a foot back in that place.” She huffed, her voice foamed and acrimony dripped from her mouth. “And don’t sell yourself so short. From what I’ve seen, I’m sure an Ex-god can steal a boat all by himself.”

Settled silence separated them, Billie tore herself away and left the rooftop via stairwell. Cheyne faced the ocean. It must had pained her to have gotten the last word, the thought rose up as he travelled to the guard rail. To watch the ones he chosen, the more sane ones that abide to his mark. They were wise enough when to not use his gifts just to test themselves. The air he parted with had a sound of amusement to it, his lips even turned up slightly.   
Licking at his dry lips, he eyed at the whalers. There was plenty of cargo left on the docks. It could take them another half hour and at where he stood would take him a mere five minute walk.

*

To ignore the piles of paperwork on her desk, Emily Kaldwin snuck out of her office and throughout the corridors. With footsteps lighter than her own weight, she brought herself to the balcony. She jumped onto the railing and scaled the bricks to the topmost roof. Empowering winds urged her to climb faster with a tight smile on its flowing lips. Urged her to break her own set record. Emily thrusted with a huff to the last flat surface and panted. Only a few seconds, she broke off. The whistling ruffled her hair and opened Emily’s eyes to the setting sun that was diving into the water to die and eventually rebirth from.

Sighing, Emily slumped over and tucked the loose strands back into place. Finally, her mind felt empty as she gazed out to the world. Her breath came more lax. If she were not careful, she would succumb to sleep and only Corvo would know where to find her.

“I know you’re up here with me.” Emily prodded with a small smile, “I’m not a child anymore. I know when you’re hiding.”

An exhausted laugh echoed behind her. “That’s not good. It means either means I’m growing old or you’re getting better than me.” Her father groaned as he sat down beside her.

“Yet neither pity your pride.” Emily shook her head. Her tone became taut, “You don’t have to go on my behalf.”

“And for a thousand more times, I encourage you that I must, unless you think I’ll choke out during my travels.”

“Don’t say such things. You’re capable. I’ve seen you, even with your gray hairs. That is not what I worry about.”

“Then what is?”

“You won’t be here.”

He took hold of his daughter’s hand. “I won’t be gone long. Only a week in Karnaca this time.”

“I’ll still miss you. There has only been but just little time for us to spend after with what happened to Delilah. I guess my worries still haunt me for...”

The grip on her hand tightened. “The mark, you mean?”

“... Yes. I’ve seen you glance at it so often. I know you’re worried. I know you’ll try to do something--”

“Your highness, you think so unlike me to evade my duties?” He asked through a mildly insulted jab.

“You dare?” Emily nudged him back.

“I don’t. I may wonder what had happened or where he could be, but that should be none of my concern unless he says so.” Corvo pressed in an odd tone. “This is important, and I won’t derail because of a suspicion. Speaking of which, I need to board.”

With a sigh, Emily stood with him. “I suppose I’ll return to my duties as well.”

“Before Mr. Layton screams into the Void that their Empress had disappeared as he did when you were just a baby?”

“Oh dear, don’t tempt me.”

Corvo patted her shoulder. “Do try not to stress yourself over this old man. Remember to play your part, Empress.”

“As to you, Lord Protector.”

It was a silent agreement. The two had fallen at a loss when something within their marks stung on that particular day. In fact, there was nothing. Of course, they did not use their powers in everyday life, disregarding Emily for her fleeting acts when she wished for peace.   
One day, they felt a twang that shivered throughout their bodies from their branded hands. It brought along the taste of salt and rust before vanishing. The mark had begun to fade. She could tell her father was suffering a lot more than she. He was branded for more than a decade. She had watched him gaze and idly move his hand before Emily received her own. Questions about the Outsider were not permitted. Through the years, Emily never asked, prodded, or begged, for she could see in his wrinkled face that it was a subject to not ever be touched.

Corvo missed the Outsider. It reminded her of how he missed Empress Jessamine. When the day arrived as a teenager, her father solemnly planned and bowed at the ceremonies of Jessamine's birthday and death. Afterwards, she could hear him weeping in his room. She was beside herself that she did not go in to confront him once. 

He mourned on the inside now on those accounts as he had taught Emily. With this being different, she had not heard him cry, yet those grim expressions that plagued him while only she was looking haunted her.

As she did mourn for the Outsider, it was not for the person himself. She wished for the freedom he gave. Selfish, she told herself as she picked through the files on her desk.

*

Holding his breath, he stepped over puddles of blood to cross over to the piers. Cheyne could not look at the fish the men where skinning. Revolting, he gagged.   
Even when he was immortal, the thought of proving himself to the naysayers of his existence made him shrug. The feeling flowed through him again when he stepped onto the planks and eyed at the large whaling ship in front of him. He was not here to prove Billie right or wrong. Standing by the ocean and smelling that wondrous salty air soothed his tormented soul. He wondered if the smell was strong enough that it could reach that nice old courtyard inside the tower.

“Oi! You!”

After her mother’s death, Cheyne decidedly assumed that the place might not be there anymore since that was former Empress Jessamine’s grave, or perhaps they could have turned it into something beautiful as a memorial? It was rare for there to be an in between for mortals when it came to decisions.

“‘Ave you glue in your ears?! Look at me! Yer trespassin’!”

 _New_. Crackling inside him, just at the bottom of his ribcage, there was a snap. Dead fish strongly seeping into his nose again, yet he refused to flinch. Cheyne gazed beside him. The man, a whaler, was big and broad with ginger hair along his jawline and throat. It hurt Cheyne’s neck, craning to gaze at his brown eyes. At the contact, the whale drew back in fear and shouted behind himself to a crewmember, similar in shape and size, sans the protruding gut and clean shaven head, “Get o’er ‘ere! Bret--!”

“What now--?!” Bret took one look at Cheyne and fell onto the crate he once held. “Shit-- You-! With them witch eyes! Leave. Now. Before we get--”

Click. Snap. In his body sprung and out of his mouth came a sardonic, grave tune. 

_What will we do with a drunken whaler?  
What will we do with a drunken whaler? _

Melodiously slow song soothed through the winds to bring shrill screaming out from the two whalers. The bearded one shot off to the market while Bret raced to the ship, squabbling, “DRAW UP THE ANCHOR.”

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING? YOU MY CAPTAIN?”

“THERE’S BE WITCH! A MAN WITCH!”

Cheyne glided up the ramp, letting his voice flow in knowing peace of the whales listening. Although his powers gone, the whales seem to not cease in enjoying his company. Along the horizon, he watched one’s mighty tail smack down a monstrous wave.

“NO MAN CAN BE A WITCH, DUMB COCK! GET BACK...” The man’s yelling faltered into a stagger, “What is that?”

“Don’t listen! It! It a spell--!”

When the gang of eight whalers were in view, his song rose from his stomach over his head, bellowing with ecstasy, **_Stuff him in a sack and throw him over--!_**

Nothing phased him to have his voice falter or fail, not the rush of people or mortified shouting. He danced in such a serene metalic way that men would lunge themselves to be out of his way. More of them flocked topside which forced Cheyne to the bow. Beaming at the line of whalers thinning out, Cheyne cried as he flicked his hand! _Way hay, and up she rises. Early in the morning._

He ended the song with a low bow. The sound of a bullet zipped over his head. His heavy breathing stopped. He lifted to find the captain of the whaling ship walking with thundering steps to him. Vulnerability caved within him. Cheyne shrinked until his back met the ship as the captain drew nearer and unsheathed his blade.

His bright eyes pierced into him as harshly as a stab. “You may look like a witch but you sure ain’t no witch. You be a shaggy rat in human skin.” His breath reeked of citrusy fish. “But that was some stage you put on, so I’ll make your death easy to swallow.”

Cheyne hoisted and balanced upon the ship’s rails as he paced. His gaze pierced down at the captain, “Can we not make a deal?”

“Don’t deal with rats, squeaker.” He raised. A blade crossed along his throat so fast the blood spewed out to Cheyne as the captain fell onto his side. 

Billie Lurk wiped the blood off her sword with the captain’s pants, saying, “I wasn’t expecting any of this. And get down from there, you asshole.”

“So you saw.” Cheyne finally spoke after spitting out blood. Even _that_ somehow tasted like fish.

“Heard.” She corrected, “It was the screaming then I came down here and there you were. I thought I was done with seeing strange things in my life.”

Cheyne blinked. She said that with a lighter tone, he processed. Following her to the windlass, he yelled over the churning chains that pulled up the anchor. “Are you not furious?”

“I’m livid! You attracted every single damn guard in Karnaca!” Billie pulled the remaining level and made a mad dash to the bridge. 

When Cheyne fully mulled over her words, he meandered to the boarding part of the ship and gaped at what he saw on the pier. It looked like there could be hundred of guards looking on and chasing the plank to delay their escape. Franticly, Cheyne dived through the unopened crates scattered topside. 

When he had gone through five, he heard Billie over the transit, “We’re getting boarded. Look for weapons!”

Cursing, he had gone through another five before finding rifles. He weighed it in his hands and he felt a shaky breath leave him. Self defense, he reassured himself, this was for self defense. He grabbed another, hoisted the strap around him, and braced as he ran for the bridge.

“Rush him!”

Like a blink, his body hit the ground. He heard Billie calling his name. Confused and alarmed, he blindly grabbed for the gun at his back and squirmed to face the rapidly enclosing feet. As soon as his eyes refocused on the world enough for him to aim, he fired in between his legs. He must have hit something for there was a thud. Figures danced on top of him. Crying out, he forced his body up, fell onto the side of-- a wall and wildly shot in front of him.   
Dunwall waits for me, the sentence repeated in his head.

Suddenly, he was grabbed by the arm, reeling him backwards. He landed onto a metal floor as a door slammed shut. Before he could move for the rifle, it was pulled out of his reach. A foot met his head, not as a kick, but it held him to the ground. As he took deep breaths, Cheyne could hear the soldiers’ gargled shouts before death choked them out. Warm chills riveted through his spine. 

Billie Lurk grunted in between two shots. There were 5 clicks next to his ear. The boat groaned in agony as it moved. The feet were less intruding but the gunfire pervaded. Cheyne shifted to stand up but the boot on his head warned harshly for him to stay down.

Eventually, there was less thudding. Less audible movement. Cheyne exhaled at the silence.

“You know, with all of this, I’m starting to think you want me to regret sparing you.” 

Cheyne didn’t hear her. Once she removed her weight from his noggin, he shot up and looked to Billie with his voice carrying anxiety. “Are you hurt?”

Drawing back, Billie’s astonished features vanished instantly. “I-- I’m fine, but you aren’t. Lay dow--”

“No! I’m not hurt!” Cheyne pushed, reaching for the controls. “This is my responsibility. Let me own it!”

“Cheyne, for fuck’s sake, you’re losing blood! Shut up!”

He paused, swaying slightly. Billie took this opportunity to settle him down and remove his soiled shirt. She gestured to him to not move before leaving the bridge. As he lied there, Cheyne touched his left side then drew his hand to his face. It was drenched in blood. Staring, he watched the blood stream down his forearm and drip onto his cheeks. He felt faint yet he forced his eyes open. The blood ventured pass his elbow and toward his shoulder, forming into a dark red hand that covered his mouth. The hand took its two fingers and closed his eyes.

Nightfall on the sea, near death escapes, outrunning the damn soldiers, just like old times, Billie scoffed, it was for him then and it was for him now. She glanced behind to the mortal god who was stretched out on the makeshift bed. She did not expect Cheyne to talk in his sleep, despite living with him for a while. Thinking about it, she was the first one to fall asleep. Came morning, he was the first person she saw awake.

Either way, his voice easily annoyed Billie while she steered the ship. It sounded as if he was going through his old memories. She could make out the name Vera Moray. His speech to her was partially muffled, nothing could be pieced together.  
He gave out his mark to a good sum of people who he showed interest in. Consciously, Billie brushed her finger along her artifactual eye. She pressed her thoughts elsewhere. 

Dunwall. She breathed. After Daud, after Corvo, Emily, and Delilah… what a mess that pursued into more of a mess that was slightly out of her control. Now, it was chaos. Out of her reach, and heading back to where everything began with a new perspective. Although, that new perspective was clouded… She knew she could not expect good tidings when they arrive. In fact, she expected arrest on sight. She helped murder the former Empress after all and told Emily that fact. Remembering her reaction filled Billie’s heart with dread.

From the groaning behind her, she assumed the Ex-god had awakened. Billie decided to have some decency to greet him. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

“Don’t...” The word came as a sharp croak that made her turn around.

Cheyne had sat up, cradling his wounded side and letting his head slump against the wall. His eyes were closed. He strained to speak, “how are we?”

“We’re getting by.”

“How long?”

“Soon.” Billie shook her head at his unhappy grunt. “Would the whales get you there faster?”

“No. They can both reach around 30 knots, however, I prefer to breathe.”

“By “both” you mean a ship verses a whale?”

“Yes...? By that look, I know I can confuse you so tell me what I said wrong.”

Yet, he said that with drooping eyelids. Slowly, Billie faced the front. “You always have worded yourself differently from any other person I’ve met.”

“I am no different from you.”

“And yet that doesn’t make you any less strange.”

“You suppose my speech improper?”

“... No.”

“Then why bother mentioning it?”

Her grip on the wheel tightened. She could feel veins pop beneath her skin. “You have never seemed human to me. Do you want a list?”

“... Name a few.”

“Fine. I never know what to expect from you. In most cases, you are somehow a step ahead in how I feel or what I’ll say. You always surprise me.” She added softly, “I don’t like being surprised.”

At sound of his hollow laugh, her core locked into a frozen state. “I am inhumane to you for you not being able to read me easily? That is very like you, Billie Lurk.”

“That’s just it. You proved my point. What were you even like eons ago? Were always so self righteous?”

“... I don’t know?”

“Yes, you do. On the roof, you told me you know how you felt in your past, so speak.”

She could feel his glare on the back of her skull. “I did. Let me enlighten you. I don’t remember having a life, but I remember feelings that I have had but not the situations that brought on them. I do not think I have ever ‘felt’ this self righteousness you claim. To be honest, I have no idea how that feels.”

“Be serious. When you were a god, you didn’t feel above anyone else?”

“No.”

“Enlighten me then,” Billie asked, sardonically.

“I wanted to know what they would do. The ones I decided to bear my mark upon.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“So you know, with Daud.”

“You talk with venom. Did you not like his decisions even though you were on his side?”

“I don’t pick sides. What anyone decides to do with the powers I grant them is up to them. It is out of question that I am to blame as you know now. With Daud, although, there were cases that he did surprise me… I never considered the relationship we had a good one.”

“Excuse me?” Billie glanced over her shoulder. Cheyne had not moved or revealed his eyes from last she saw him.

“By sparing the now Empress Emily, Daud was not one for seeking redemption until he was dead in the Void, like any other mortal. I did not tolerate much of his decisions.”

“And yet you still gave people your mark? You knew about the cults, you knew what was happening out there. Did you set about making it worse?”

“I set about picking people who had the potential to save or destroy. Their choice. Not mine.”

“I’m sure you’re pleased with how Empress Emily and Corvo came out.” His eyebrows had lifted slightly at hearing the Lord Protector’s name, she noted.

“I am pleased.” Cheyne carried on, “as well as you, Billie Lurk. You could have killed me. Easily. And yet you convinced the man who aimed to murder me to bring me here. You impressed me and you have my eternal gratitude.”

“Do I now? It doesn’t feel like I have gained anything from you.”

“We are not the same, but not so different.”

Billie sighed from her nose, growing tired of his lectures. “Whatever you say.”

Day 04 The Month of Earth -- Ocean

Nightmares of the previous contact with soldiers plagued the underside of his eyes. Eventually, Cheyne let his eyes flutter open to notice the sun’s rays slowly caressing the mountains. With a moan from his stiff back, he moved himself in a way that let him stand up. From that earned him severe pain that shot out from his side, he fell onto the wall and held his injury. He didn’t hear any scolding. Soon, he realized that he was alone. Deciding to venture past the door, he began dragging himself along the wall.

He remembered while looking for weapons, there were crates of fruits and vegetables topside, so he trudged up the stairs. His empty stomach made him dizzy and the forever swaying ship did not help him.

His eyes widen when he stepped out onto the deck. Dunwall Tower, he exhaled. The afternoon sun shined at the architecture in such a way that it was breathtaking. In fact, Cheyne almost fell over from either awe or hunger.

“Why the hell are you walking?” Billie came round.

“I didn’t know where you were.” He replied in honesty.

She blinked again, frowning. “You were better off sleeping on something soft so you could heal. Looks like whalers don’t expect real bad injuries while sailing so I didn’t find much of anything helpful aside from ale.”

“Ale sounds lovely about now.”

“Fine. Since you’re here, just sit down before you fall off the side.”

Cheyne obeyed, dreamily staring back at the tower. “How did we--?”

“You slept a half a week.”

“... Oh--?”

“It’s normal, don’t worry.” The smell of citrus and alcohol was strong within his nose. Lazily, he caught the bottle and downed it.

“... You know to eat first.”

“Hurts.” He explained in between drinks. After emptying the glass, he clumsily put the bottle down, which fell to its side immediately. He mindlessly ate the fruit offered to him as Billie gazed.

This was uncomfortable. Billie removed herself to view the tower. “What do you plan to do now then? I am a criminal, as you know, and if they see you with me, they will think you as such.”

“They will know who I am.” Cheyne slurred.

“‘They’ who? Empress Emily and Corvo? You really suppose the guards won’t kill us on sight? Or are you going to sing to them like last time and hope they plunge themselves into the water?”

“Corvo’s my friend. I trust him.”

“I’m not talking about Corvo. I’m talking about the guards stationed at every single nook and cranny! I can’t get this Karnaca whale ship any closer without suspicion.” She emphasised quickly, as she worried how hard that whiskey had hit him.

“I trust him.” He looked at her with drunk exaggeration in his eyes. Cheyne forced himself onto his feet and teetered violently. 

“Shit--!” Billie hurried over. She pulled his weight over his own body and let him balance for a minute.

He jerked his head over to give her a look of determination before pushing her away. Stumbling to one of the unopened crates, he brought himself on top of it, stood up, and proceeded to cross his arms. “You listen to me--”

“Are you fucking serious.”

“I’m talking--”

“Get the fuck down from the BOX, Cheyne.”

“No!”

“Is this really necessary?!”

“YeSssss!”

“Are that mad I’m a few inches taller than you?”

“Up the fuck.”

“Oh, by the Void, do I need strength...” Billie muttered under her breath. She cleared her voice. “I’m listening.”

Cheyne sniffed, “You’re gon’ pull in, and I’ll talk-- By my mark! Cheyne! You not be-- won’t arrested.” 

“Guards usually throw drunkards back into the water… or street if they’re feeling generous.”

“No!” He pouted like a child. “Wrong! I’m right! You know!”

I really should not be amused by this, Billie thought as she covered her mouth with her hand, nonchalantly as if thinking. “By your mark, right?”

“See!! You get it! I know theses, the whales too! We’ll be the audience.”

“Uh-- yes, the whales. I’m sure the soldiers will understand your… plot to what?”

“My dear Corvo can see! We’ll see!” He smiled brightly at the name, his eyes filling up with pure excitement.

Suddenly, her existence felt as if she traversed back into the Void. “I’m sorry-- Corvo’s your what?”

“Dear Corvo--!” He swayed as if lovestruck. The name was on his lips again but then the grin vanished. The life in his eyes had become devoured with fear. His slurred tongue paused to turn sober. He gasped and grabbed his chest, “I’m human. Will he remember me? It is unrequited…?” He clawed at his eyes. He was hyperventilating. “I can’t see anything! Has my insight vanished? Why can’t I see them? Where did they go?”

Billie wanted to back away. Her heart quaked as did her hands. Unwillingly, she reached out and touched his leg. “Ch-Cheyne? Just step down an--”

“I can’t see, Billie.” Cheyne looked to her through hazy eyes. To watch tears stream down his face, it stung her and she avoided his gaze.

“Why can I see?” He prodded again, his voice clinging onto her with desperation.

“You’re crying, Cheyne.”

“No. I _can’t_ see. I was so used to it. Why do I now see that it’s gone. Billie?” He knelt down to her and grabbed her shoulders. “I need guidance.”

Forcefully, Billie shoved herself out of his reach. Her strong irate aura bored hard into him that he fell onto his rear. “You have given me nothing but grief. I’ve tried to guide you since the first day but now... Why--why should I guide you through your own made up world? You know who I am! You and I know that I have never made good decisions. In fact, I’m thinking that I should have killed you instead.”

Cheyne set his gaze downcast. “You let your anger rule you so much.”

“Only because of you! Stop lecturing me as if you know best for me. I’m tired of you.”

Carefully, he climbed down from the box. Looking at her, he could see there was a warm depth within her. His lips did not twitch nor did he make any movement of his head. Simply, he walked by her and to the rowboats. Letting her have the last word, again.

Billie realized this too late. 

The fog of rage unfurled from her vision. “Fuck.”

She raced to the side to see Cheyne had already gone a long way from the ship.

“He’s drunk.” She reassured herself, rubbing her temple. “He’s drunk and he’ll sober up and come back and I’ll… make it up to him.” Cheyne reminded Billie of herself when she-- Her eyes opened. “Shit, he’s injured, that idiot!”

It bled through his clothes but Cheyne refused to give it mind. He paddled the boat towards the shoreline. He didn’t glance back. He didn’t look forward. He was blind to the two soldiers waiting for him to breach. Neither drawn out their weapons yet. Their faces held confusion and alarm when they exchanged glances. When Cheyne finally boarded, he tripped out of the rowboat and gasped repeatedly for the heat rising in his stomach was becoming unbearable.

“He certainly does not look like a whaler.”

“Yes, scrawny. A stowaway, perhaps?”

Cheyne pushed himself to gaze at the officers and pleaded, hoarsely, “I beseech thee. I must have an audience with the Lord Protector. It’s urgent!”

“... Pick him up. Be mindful! He’s already wounded.”

The jolts from the man’s rough hands did not disturb him, as if it shook his very soul out of his body. He could feel the officer pull the skin around his eye up yet he could not see him. A sword growled as it was unsheathed.

“Hold it, lieutenant. To end it quick won’t provide us with answers. A male witch is impossible. He must be interrogated.” Prints crushed the sand below.

“Do you not find it strange? He asked for the Lord Protector and not Her Ladyship?”

“I heard.”

“Should we say--?”

“Of course not. She has important things to worry about than this drunkard witch.”

Sudden vividity invaded his vision when Cheyne woke up. Recoiling, he moved to cover his eyes, but he was tangled. 

“Ah. Perfect.” He muttered, mirthlessly. Tied down to a chair with overhead beaming lights blinding him. Cheyne sighed as shadows clothed by rue pervaded him. My third eye, he moaned, why must I regain it when I had had it before? How did I lose it?

His world rocked as the chair lifted up and was filled with a face of freckles and a dagger like glare from gray eyes. “Must I clean your ears, Witch?” The young officer gestured a knife towards him.

Cheyne glanced at the knife before making eye contact. “Talk louder next time. I was thinking.”

“Alright. I will.” The officer raised his voice. “Your name.”

“Cheyne.”

“Cheyne what?”

“Cheyne.”

“... Fine then. You look like the such to be too poor to have a last name. Mine is Alec.” He reset the chair and straightened his back. “Cheyne. Where do you come from?”

“Karn--naca…?”

“Is that a question or an answer, Cheyne?”

Fists formed behind him as he fought for an answer. “... I’ve been around. It’s difficult to remember where I was born.”

“You’re too young looking to say such things. Can you at least remember your age?”

“A few thousand years.” Cheyne said honestly. A slap stung his cheek. 

“Brigmore witches have only been around for DECADES! Not a millennium! Why try to be humorous? You’re a prisoner. Be serious.”

“I stand by my answer.” Cheyne continued with a warning tone, dragging his gaze up to his face. He watched as the soldier draw his head back and stared.

“Are there any more witches in that whaling ship?”

“No, only whalers. Most witches are dead these days. The rest, blinded and in slaved.”

“Except you.”

“What do you think considers me a witch? Or do you go by what others below you say without another thought?”

Sharp. Drawn out. Gasping, Cheyne doubled over after Alec punched his head into the chair. Blood carefully streamed and dripped down from the top of his nose. He quivered and spat out the metal taste that ran along his tongue.

“Do not act as if you are above me.”

“I only state facts.” His hair was sternly grabbed and pulled until he felt the blade on his throat. Feeling the tip, his chest closed off and the color drained down to his feet and boiled. Figures clamped him down and choked out his support as they slowly sliced his throat, cutting deeper and deeper. Were they going all the way through? Will they cut down to his bones and through to the other side? All he could do was be frozen as his eyes took another staggering breath at the sun’s light. When all he could see--

Cold water poured over his head. Wide awake, Cheyne sputtered and coughed and cried for life as if he had survived drowning.

“You’re interesting, Cheyne.” Alec’s stone voice cooed into his ears. “I’ve never had anyone go into shock like that.”

“Sshhhhhock?”

“You looked almost dead. I can tell you had experienced some trauma. So, I won’t do that again as long as you answer honestly.”

“As long as you can forget what you’ve seen, I’ll cooperate.”

“... I can accept that. Let’s continue this, civilly.”

Scaling the vines and bricks along the side of the tower’s wall, a soaking wet and bleeding Billie Lurk cursed beneath her breath of how the black-eyed bastard is either going to get killed by executioners or by her own hand. At the moment, she was favoring her hands that now sunk deep in between each block until reaching one of the many roofs. Gasping for air, she quickly surveyed around and noted the soldiers below her and one about the balcony three roofs away from her.

Simple, she stated as her artificial hand raised-- and paused in realization. She took that hand and rubbed her face. “A habit that isn’t that deep and now I do it? Moron...”   
Billie referred to Cheyne more than herself with that last comment.

Since she had only been to her Empress’ presence once, Billie did not let herself become worked up. Emily might even throw her behind bars for her mother’s murder. With a bite of her lip, Billie clambered down to the balcony and slivered away from the armed guard into the right side corridor.

It’s been a while, Billie muttered. Slinking through guards, checking keyholes and rifling through rooms, the sensation gave her odd clarity. A strange satisfaction as she evaded sight and mind just like old times with Daud by her side--

Ah, guilt. Dreadful, that feeling. Through her nose, an air of frustration escaped as she massaged her temple. Decidedly, Billie focused on the present to not further dwell on old emotions. That is when she noticed the lack of footsteps when she took the last step up the stairs. 

Billie stared around with her ears open, ignoring the overly detailed columns and walls that desired to invade her focus.

“Meagan--Billie…?”

Meagan. Foster. By the Void… Her stance drooped sadly and she turned to face the Empress. Out of, somewhat, respect, Billie lowered her head down to mimic a small bow. She could not meet Emily’s hardened gaze that briefly vanished at seeing her artificial eye.   
“There’s been a misunderstanding with your fellow soldiers, Empress.”

“Clearly an enormous misunderstanding if you’re here. Do explain quickly.” Billie watched her stand with her feet apart as if ready to jump but her arms were tied together like a burderning mother. It set her gut aflame with anxiety.

“They captured the Outsider.”

Her pose immediately waned. “What?”

“He’s in your interrogation room, probably being tortured as we speak. I don’t know what he wants to do here or why but he needs to see Corvo about… something.”

“Corvo-- He’s away to Karnaca on business. But...” Emily paused, “I don’t understand, the Outsider-- in, in physical form?”

“Karnaca.” Billie proposed to herself that the balcony was an excellent place to fall off from later. “I’m going to kill that bastard.” She raised her voice, promptly, “He’ll explain later, if you can get there before he dies.”

Emily nodded, but she did not budge. “And you?”

“What about me?”

“You brought him here, did you not?”

“Yes, and I’m going… away. I did my job.”

Her head cocked to the side. Gazed up and down her person, she then grasped her by the wrist and pulled Billie down the staircase with a grimace. “You may leave once I have everything figured out, Billie Lurk. Until then, you are under watch by myself and my men, do you understand?”

Distressed and bemused, Billie heaved, “Please, both of us know that’s not a question.”

After letting out another wail, Cheyne hung loosely as the chains would let him over the chair.

“This is your last chance. Tell me why you seek the Lord Protector?” Alec spat when the other lieutenant stopped lashing at Cheyne’s back. “If you continue to refuse to answer, Witch, you will receive more than scars on your back. You will be plastered as a menace to the crown and will die in the next hour. Answer, the torture will stop and you will be sentenced to prison for life.”

Upon waiting for a minute of silence, Alec grabbed his jaw and forced him to look in the eye. “I don’t have all day, Witch.”

To not give him the satisfaction, Cheyne closed his eyes and bared his teeth, “if I cannot meet Corvo to give him my message, then I will gladly die for his sake.”

“... For his sake?!” The officer shook him and threw him down onto the floor. The chains that held him to the chair shattered and broke, springing pieces of sharp metal across the room. “Even now, you try to hex me to release you, Witch?! Cover his mouth! An hour is too long for this fool’s impertinence.”

“You are no man of Dunwall!” Cheyne cried out in anger.

Alec did a double take at the guard gathering Cheyne up. “Stop, I said stop! Are you deaf?! Let the bastard speak.”

Cheyne shakily straightened and forced to eye the officer and speak clearly. “Your vile soul sorts the like of those of the Pendletons, Havelock, and Martin, the list lingers onto the path of those who seek conquest through terror and low standards. To have a man in such a high position as yourself, Alec Dubois, talk with such disrespect and so undignified once angered to throw tantrums. You are not fit to be a man of Dunwall nor a high ranked soldier.” His voice rose to a trembling but dignified yell. “You will and could never be one-fourth the man Corvo Attano is!”

His grey eyes grew to the size of plates. Out of quaking fear, the lieutenant beside Cheyne trailed off to the corner of the room. “S-sir--?”

“Silence!” Alec shouted, his gaze glued to Cheyne’s face. “Ho--”

“Disgusting. Treating your men like rats.” He reprimanded as he balanced upon his legs, swaying dangerously. “Clearly, Emily nor Corvo did not handpick you from the start. You are near exact to your father, Late Overseer Jasper. What a waste of human flesh!”

Alec withdrew his pistol from his backside as the door opened behind Cheyne. Dropping the gun at the sight of the Empress Emily Kaldwin accompanied by her men, Alec pitifully drew away from Cheyne and whimpered as a sign of forgiveness. Emily kicked him to the floor and let the guards rush to hold him down. Behind them, Billie ran into the room, took Cheyne by the arm, and hoisted him over her shoulder before he fainted.

Hours after the incident, Emily heard that Cheyne showed amazing recovering improvements. He was a fast healer, however his pain was unbearable and he could barely move. Emily wondered if that was a side effect of the Void.   
Billie’s stomping brought her out of her thoughts. She marched up and down with her arms tightly folded against her chest. She knew it pissed Billie off more that the Empress was just _looking_ at her with nothing behind her gaze.

She whirled. “Don’t you have something more important to do!?”

Her eyebrows raised up. “I consider this top priority. The Outsider is human and among us, most of all. He’s come here to see... Corvo?”

“And you’re look at me for answers?! I wish I could see what is going inside his head. All that I know is that he’s a damned idiot!” Billie did not give Emily a chance to think before continuing. She put her hands on Emily’s desk.   
“He lets people believe he’s a witch! I don’t know why but so far it has proved how foolish he is. It’s gotten him on that whaling ship. I had to save his ass-- multiple times because he alerted those soldiers and got injured in the process. He gets drunk and moans over ‘dear Corvo’. He jumps overboard and leaves his blood on your floor. All of this, all of this, why we’re here is because a _mortal_ GOD is in love with your _father_.”

The empress slowly opened and closed her mouth. Finally, she met Billie and said, “Honestly, I have no idea what to say. This is a lot to take in.”

“At least agree with me that he’s a dumbass and put me back on a ship to Karnaca so we can both pretend we never saw each other.”

She eyed at Billie with parted lips and spoke carefully, “I’d like to hear the whole thing from yours and his perspective before I say anything. Firstly, I think you know something vital or else why would you two be together.”

Huffing, Billie obliged and sat down on the nearby chair. “I made him human.”

“Continue. I want to hear everything.”

“So be it.”

Rooms now illuminated by candlelight when Billie ended her long winded tale. Standing up, she resumed pacing and her arms firmly placed back to their original positions. She did not dare glance the empress’ way unlike the empress herself who let her gaze follow the criminal.   
Yes, criminal, Emily pressed, a criminal setting a god free for his sake and killing him for Daud’s. Becoming her own person definitely had its flaws, which Emily admitted was an understatement. Hesitantly, she removed her glove to see his mark that now was barely visible. Giving her this gift and seeing the toll he set upon Billie made her feel more empty and confused about her own feelings for the Outsider. Emily let herself sink into the chair and drifted.   
To know why Corvo must feel worse off than herself, it gave her peculiar abstraction that she did not want to believe. Though the Outsider had given them much with his guidance and aid, this… 

This was too much.

Licking her lips, she prepared herself to talk. In mind, she fought for what to say, yet nothing was appropriate. “The mark is his name. Cheyne? How old.” The name rolled around like mud between her teeth.

Billie’s footsteps grew faster. “I helped you figure this out. Am I free to leave?”

Emily stared squarely at the ceiling. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“Until Corvo returns, you will remain here under mine and my high officers’ jurisdiction. Two men are waiting for you right now to take you to your room.”

“You can’t be serious. Do you honestly trust me to try not to escape or kill your fellow men?”

Emily moved her head down to meet Billie’s eye. No words forced out of her tongue for her crystal eyes crafted the point for her. Billie took a step back and exhaled from exhaustion, “Fine… I’ll wait.”

She shuddered at her ladyship’s tired yet acceptingly warm smile.

When Emily knew she was alone, tears flowed to her chin. She covered her mouth. Breathing fitfully, she ran her hands over her face to merely feel it. Her eyes wandering, her mouth open to scream but nothing released.   
Emily shot up and bumped her desk askew as she darted out of her office. Dizzy from the pit of her stomach to the top of her head, she dazed through until finding the medical wing’s door wide open. Her soul clung and pulled her away but Emily forced on, grinding her teeth. Not a source of light in the room aided her visibility, even though there was one illuminated lamp beside the occupied cot at the end of the room. Her world felt tainted with unbeknownst shadows.

Consciously, Emily extended her hand as she drew nearer to the bed. A mess of dark wet hair damped the pillow under him. Laying on his stomach and a IV in his arm, the Outsider looked like jellyfish on the shore. Dead and deadly to the touch. The sheet was in a death grip and Emily dropped to her knees. As if her eyes bled, she pushed into the fabric, shifting and whining softly.   
It hurts, oh, why does it ache? Her chest surged and sparked as if she was under the effects of electrocution. She saw that the Outsider suddenly flinched. For a moment, she waited for nothing.

“Why can’t you speak...?” Emily mourned and hiccuped. “Send dreams to me like you used to? Bring comfort to me again when I had none? You weren’t there and now you’re here. Must you bring that chill that I felt in the Void? It fuels me with hate. Why do I hate you? I’m in pain because of your decisions. Please… at least give me something.”

Soon, Emily Kaldwin fell unconscious.

Day 05 The Month of Earth -- Dunwall Tower

Em. ə. Lee.

Em. ill. Lee.

Em. ma. Lee.

Emil. lee.

Emalee.

Emily.

“Do wake up.”

His voice was strained but it beckoned her. However, floating voidance around her did not greet her. Whales, rocks, reminisce of the cognition, it was gone. Emily met Cheyne through his glassy and misty stare. His slender lips cracked, “Have you been here throughout last night?”

“I believe so...” Her voice carried as if it hung on a shaking wire. “You’re here.”

“Indeed. Tell me why you’re crying.”

“I don’t know. I need answers. I need to know why I feel such anger and loss. Why my father and I felt as we did when I can only imagine as the day you became human. Why your mark is disappearing so fast for me yet-- I don’t know if I want to understand.”

His glimpsed to her hand brought a frown. “I have noticed… and I’m afraid that I am as lost as you are.”

“No, no, you have to know something. You’ve given hundreds if not thousands of people your mark. Some had to have disappeared!”

“None disappeared. When I left-- rrgn, when I leave one that I marked from lack of interest, they have the possibility to drive themselves into madness and use their gifts to indulge. No mark I have given fades… You must have seen Corvo’s ma--” His coughing stopped him short.

“Of course I’ve seen it. Even now it has not faded as much as mine. You must know!” Her voice rose and she met him with desperation. “From the time you’ve left, I’ve felt so lonely. You’re here and the feeling remains.” Emily was gritting her teeth. When she looked into his dull countenance, smoke suffused within her lungs and tightened her voice, “You don’t care. You don’t care because I’m not Corvo, am I wrong? Are you that selfish?!”

“As I said before, I am just as confused as you. I have only mentioned his name once.”

“You-- started all of this. How--?!”

“Emily. Lady Emily.” He corrected himself. To watch her irate face diminished at the sight of his tears did not give him ease. “Please. I don’t want to be yelled at anymore. I don’t know what I’m doing. I find this a miracle that I have found myself this far by creating such terrible plans and selfishly acting upon them, but I would never ask anyone to put themselves through it as well. I promise, Lady Emily, if you will have me, we may be able to figure this out together.”

Her hand was found on top of his… She squeezed it. “Of course. Of course...” She gasped, finally looking at him in the eye. No apology was necessary by his ever so small smile. “I don’t think I’ve seen you smile before.”

He blinked as his lips puckered into a circle. His gaze fell to the bland sheets. “I never had someone take my hand like this before.”

Unsure whether or not to release him, she lightly kept her hand in place. “I know you’ve experienced much, Billie has made me aware of it.”

“She’s here?”

“Why, yes. She saved your life. Don’t you recall?”

“Frankly, I was in a stupor from ale. I don’t know what I have done or said other than I know I am in Dunwall on my second wind and that I have caused much tribulation for my own selfish tendencies. I will not ask for an apology if you do not want to forgive me.”

Emily shook her head. “I do forgive you. I’m sure you found me foolish to accuse and question you while you need to rest.”

“After everything, I am at your disposal… I am keeping you. Do not feel obliged to company me, Lady Emily. You may pepper me with composite questions whenever you wish.” To her surprise, he gave her hand a return squeeze as she stood. “I know Billie must have said my name but I want to introduce myself as properly as I can. I’m Cheyne Sítheach and I’m honored to be in your presence once more, your ladyship.”

Unlike the many vile, unpleasantries Billie wretched about the ex-Outsider, Emily found him sweet.

“There is no name like in that our history books. I have never heard of Sitheach before in my studies-- Am I pronouncing it correctly?” Emily muttered to herself, tossing another book onto one of the disorderly stacked piles. “I did not ask him how it was spelled either.”

Billie knowingly rolled her eyes. “It’s a dead name, highness, I sincerely doubt he can spell it. It’s not going to be in any book, either.” She muttered, “I don’t think Sokolov would know about this, if he’s alive. This is ridiculous...”

“I suppose living on with a few more unanswered questions is tolerable, albeit annoying.” Emily sipped the now cold tea from the cup in front the majority of the read through history and literature books upon her desk.

“I still don’t understand why I must stay here.” Plopping down on the love seat, Billie hoisted her feet up, hung her head back, and threw her arms over the side in a humph. “It’s everything I hate.”

A ghost of a coy smile played her lips. “I’m sure living the high life is disgusting to you. Corvo would want to see you again. You helped me with Delilah and you brought the Outsider here. I know he’d want to thank you perso--”

“Is that right? That’s not how you treated me when the time came and I arrived here.”

Emily could feel a headache coming on. She lowered her cup. “You helped slay my mother. I thought about slicing your neck then.” 

“I know. I could see it.”

“From recalling that moment when I saw you in front of me, I had no idea why you were here. You can’t blame me for that.”

“I suppose not...” Billie huffed, “but Corvo? Thank me?”

“If he were in my place, I think he would have done the same and spared you after your confession. If I was to be in Karnaca in his stead, he would be thanking you at this moment. He would see you have redeemed yourself as I have.”

“Redeemed myself?!” She put a hand to her chest and her eye squinted from confusion. “I--if that’s what you want to call it.”

“Do you think not?”

“I’m not a good person, highness. Even though I have… changed. I’m not clean, unlike you.”

Emily closed her eyes to separate herself from reality. “You mean to call me immaculate? You could not be farther from the truth, Billie Lurk.”

“That makes three of us.”

Emily blinked. “Three? Cheyne?”

Her nose scrunched up. “No. Corvo. Although, I’m sure that bastard is as worse as any of us.”

“How so?”

“I’ve told you before. Cheyne doesn’t look further from the end of his nose. He’s a hypocrite.”

“I think he’s just as confused as any of us.” Frowning, Emily turned and gazed out towards the ocean side where the waves violently lapped at the shore. Dark clouds glided through Dunwall while winds grew wicked and tore through the trees. 

Day 15 of The Month of Earth -- Dunwall Tower

“His back injuries have healed greatly but I fear that the bullet wound on his side may still take another month or so...” Cheyne heard the nurse’s sweet tone flow through him

“While I appreciate your supervision and tending him so thoroughly, surely, he must be able to walk by now, yes?” That was Lady Emily’s voice.

“With a limp, yes. He can walk. I’m not sure if he’s ready to or not.”

“If he wants to meet with the Lord Protector, he’ll walk.”

His drowsiness suddenly vanished. Perking up, he dragged himself to sit.

“I told you.” 

“I can hear you smiling.” Cheyne moaned, taking time to open his eyes.

“Your Highness, he still needs support. I don’t want him to become more injured if he walks now.”

“Trust me, Nora. He’ll be fine.”

“Your neverending kindness is appreciated, Ms. Nora.” Finally blinking, Cheyne looked to the blonde elderly nurse, tenderly as she hoisted him from the bed. “I’m sorry to cause you trouble.”

The nurse gazed to the empress and laughed wholeheartedly. “Do you hear him? Apologizing to me?”

“He’s quite the man.”

With scrunched eyebrows, Cheyne licked his lips in uncertainty. “I… don’t follow.”

“Nevermind us. Come.” Empress Emily gently took him by the arm and guided his wobbly legs step by step through the room. She kept her laughter to herself when she saw how distraught his gaze was towards the floor. “Are you scared?” 

“I don’t feel like I have legs…!”

“I’ve got you.” She patted his hand. “We’re going to walk the hall to the room you will be staying in. It is best to be comfortable while healing. I’ve made sure it isn’t too far or else Nora will have my head.”

“I-I see-- What has happened?” He inquired, quickly.

“You’ve been bedridden for a week. Karnaca and parts of Dunwall were struck with a horrific storm that sent Corvo’s ship off course. We only got word recently that everyone is alive and well with minor injuries. They had taken refuge in the eye of the storm. I’m not sure when he’ll arrive.”

She took his relieved sigh as his acknowledgement. Casually, she glanced behind them to see Billie Lurk, who Emily had called to accompany them. Of course, Billie obeyed with fumes emitted from her head. Emily continued on, “Billie is still living with us much to her dismay. She’s doing good as well.”

“How long until we are permitted to leave?” Billie stopped herself from tripping over her own feet at hearing his question.

Emily stared him down, mouth agape. 

“Oh, please don’t think me rude. Your hospitality is wonderful. However, neither of us belong here and it might tamper your reputation to your country and neighbors. Letting a branded “witch” and a known criminal live within your walls, it’s not wise. I shudder to think what your people will do if you admit that I am the Outsider. I’m surprised you have not let Billie go. I digress, once I see and talk to Corvo, I will leave.”

“I-I have my reasons for keeping both of you here and I promise it is temporary.” She gritted her teeth. “And Cheyne, you still need treatment! You’re underweight, you can’t--”

“I’m not asking to leave right now, Lady Emily.”

“I know you’re not but listen to me. Your ideas are not well thought out. Please, let us take care of you until we figure it out together. Like you said.” She emphasised, “Will you cooperate?”

“... I suppose.”

Bewildered, Emily lost her tongue for a fleeting moment, “You-- won’t agree willingly?”

“No.”

“... Will you say?”

“Your audience. As I said before, they could think against you. A mutiny might be upon you if you’re not careful.”

“You always talk as if you can predict the future. Your third eye lives on while corporeal?”

Cheyne lurched in shock. His eyes were huge. Emily found parts of his body flinch unorderly, so she strengthened her grip on him. “Cheyne?”

“I’m afraid I lost… that.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

“And this is how you choose to cope?”

“Cope?” He returned, unwillingly.

“Cope by pretending to know what will happen? Does that bring you comfort?”

“Lady Emily, I’m afraid I have no ideas of how to cope with any of this. I am only suggesting possibilities. You are the empress and hold the trust of your people in your hand. They can take that away from you.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“You do?”

“You question me?”

Cheyne searched her face before speaking. “I question what motive you have and gain you want that brings such unroyal behavior towards Billie and myself. Neither of us are that important.”

“You are the Outsider. You were a god. You claim to be unimportant when you have something so urgent to speak to my father to come here and nearly die as a result? How can you think like that?!”

He held up his free hand. “Please, do live in my shoes for a day that feels like another year passing by. When I was a god, while I was mortal, do try to think that I was the most flawed human being you could ever conceive. And then apologize. For now, I grow tired and irritated at being constantly questioned for misunderstanding my intentions I try my best to convey. Perhaps, my tongue is too old and goes to waste on youth.” Suddenly, he looked to Billie through indefatigable eyes.   
“That goes for you as well, Billie Lurk. If you regret everything then why can’t you bring yourself to kill me where I stand? You had time to go into the ward and stab me and leave. In any day of any hour, I could have been at your disposal yet here I stand. Since I can’t predict or read anymore, why don’t you tell me?! For you this will be the last time I listen. If it will ease your soul after my death, I will have the final word in your stead, so that you can breathe instead of stomping away like a child on a tantrum! How will that serve you?”

At will, the artificial arm clattered and shaped into a long sword. After a heave, she forced a scream. Quickly, Emily shot out in front, but Billie shoved her aside with her shoulder and grabbed Cheyne by the throat, pulling his gut to the blade’s point. 

It was a prick, like poking your finger on a thorn. Billie stood there and her sword firmly poised. She bared her teeth. She merely breathed on him.

“I don’t understand.” Cheyne croaked through her clasped hand.

“Neither do I...” Disappointment bled out of her. Billie removed herself. The blade vibrated and shifted to reform parts of her forearm. From there, she parted.

In silence, the empress took hold on Cheyne and glided him through door of his room and towards the queen sized bed that was prepped with thick covers and pillows.

“Please, rest for now.”

“As you wish, Lady Emily.” She helped him climb onto the bed and brought the comforters over his body. “I promise to not cause anymore unadulterated trouble while I remain here. If you wish it upon me, I will grant you peace and only speak shortly when spoken to.”

“Cheyne, there’s no need for any of that. Please, be yourself.”

“From my experience, that doesn’t make anyone happy.”

“... In any case, it helps me try to understand you better.” Cheyne nodded, but by his troubled expression, she decided to urge him more, “Whenever Corvo arrives, maybe he can convince you. I think he could understand you more than Billie or myself.”

To watch his eyes spark a little at his name, it somehow gave her a false sense of ease.

“I’m sorry to make you feel inferior.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you.” Emily glanced over her shoulder but Billie was not there.

“Do not talk to her about this. Confrontation is the last thing she needs. I went to far.”

“I trust you.”

“... That… is the nicest thing you’ve told me, Lady Emily.”

“I consider that a shame, I should--” The name finally processed with her, “Have you been calling me ‘Lady Emily’?”

“I know others call you as such. Should I not?”

“N-no. I just… When I hear you say it, I feel as if I’m still the ten year old girl you used to visit. Somehow, I feel the same odd wonder I had from those dreams”

A wisp of a crooked smile played on his lips. “… Does that courtyard still exist?”

“The garde--” Her heart paused. “The one with the old gazebo?”

“Yes.”

“Of course, it exists. I fear it’s lost its childlike awe with age.”

“If it’s not too much, I wish to walk there. I wanted to see it for myself for a very long time.”

“May I ask why?”

“To recollect, I suppose. Is it possible?”

“... It is. You may walk there but I cannot. I will ask Nora to escort you there. She is still your keeper until you are well enough.”

“Certainly. I couldn’t ask you to take me there.”

“You--you couldn’t?”

He hummed, blinking sleepily.

“I-I see… your consideration is so…” Familiar. “Palpable. I envy that.”

“Don’t.”

Cheyne closed his eyes and shifted his weight to accommodate his injuries. Ringing her hands, Emily was out of his chambers. Don’t envy him, she whistled, I shouldn’t. Look what I put him through. Why do I feel like I’ve been through this before?

Emily sauntered throughout the lit halls, driving alone in her mind. Rackling, cradling, her thoughts mulled and yearned. It wasn’t for him and yet it was. It was something that accompanied him. What was that? 

Suddenly, she clutched to her chest, over her heart.

There was a balcony in his room. Despite his pains, he stood there and drank the taste of the waves that the winds wafted along. Song of the whales softly lulled him into a daze. It distracted him from jumping and fighting tree branches before landing crippled and broken on the rocks below him. He had watch many gone insane by his power. They offed themselves this way or by drowning. Drowning, that would be an artistic acrostic.

Daringly and drastically  
Roguish and regrettable how  
Outlandish the Outsider has become  
Washed up in the waves of  
New untitled disappointment  
Ignoring others’ fundamentals is   
Now  
Going back to the Void and past the current to die.

Cheyne emphasized the final word with a hard clash of his teeth. Carefully, he stepped and balanced himself on the flat marble railing. To look down would only make him realize what he might do. Yet he looked passed his feet and wavered at the sight. Quickly, he bolted into the room. The pain made him crash into the upholstered chair. The shag rub broke cushioned his fall while the chair broke the tea table in half. Gasping, he dared to not lift himself to a crawl. He dug his face into the fabric and muffled his shriek.

By the Void, he saw him, he saw Corvo. Not just his face but the feeling, the rush he felt watching him perform to save his daughter.

Coarse, his throat felt after he spat out rug fibers. “How... Brilliant… Cunning. Optimum. Riveting. Voguish. Oh… oh, how could you? Of what purpose? Claim him? And if he doesn’t? Here I mope and wonder foolishly… but is it foolish, this artistic irony?” Tears trickled down his cheeks as he stared up at the painted ceiling that zagged and dotted with gold trimming. Extending his hand, he traced them with his finger. “I can wait. I’ve gone too far to have his answer.”

Nora soon rushed in five minutes later holding a candelabra that dawned light into the room. She stood flabbergasted upon seeing the broken furniture and a sleeping Cheyne on the floor. Clinging to the doorknob, she heavily considered leaving the witch there until morning.

After a minute, Nora closed the door and wobbled to her quarters.

Day 16 of The Month of Earth -- A Ship Nearing Dunwall

The morning sun’s rays glistened on his clothes, bringing out the gray in his black hair. Speaking of, ah, another gray hair claimed the shoulder of his coat. He plucked it and tossed it off the side. Gray reminded Corvo his era was ending, but he never minded that. However, the shipmate forbid to say otherwise. He had seen some cringe. He saw many over his age smile and look timidly above his eyes. Reminding him, he was Corvo Attano, not a boy that lived in the streets of Karnaca. Already, he jested beside himself wondering if they were planning his funeral. Those thoughts gave crinkles to his bright eyes.

Although his body ached from the jostling sea that squished his joints, they ceased at once when Emily came into view as he stepped off the motorboat. To see her standing with her fingers laced so strictly, feverish stare, her smiling face set off Corvo’s nerves. Urgently, he pressed forward and bowed with his head before her. “I’m afraid everything went as intended, your highness.”

Her shoulders fell as she shook her head. “You always know, don’t you?”

“I’m a father first before your commands.” Corvo took her in stride by her hand. “I hope all this nerve was not because you fretted me returning?”

“I’m a bit spent for jests. What I have to tell you is for your ears alone.”

His face turned to cobble. He nodded, firmly. “Then by all means, Emily, lead me.”

Graciously, she sighed and guided him up and to her office where Billie Lurk sat with her limbs closely pressed together. As Emily closed the door, the alarmed Corvo tugged on her arm as if to draw her behind him but his act stopped the moment it started.   
“Billie Lurk.” He acknowledged with assertivity. “You’ve been blessed by the Outsider, I see.”

She gave an unwarranted laugh, “Believe me, I didn’t want his gifts.”

“That sounds like him.” There was that familiar sadness that only a funeral could provide. It held her theory like a dam. Corvo shook his head once. “How long have you stayed here?”

“More than a week.”

Briskly, he waltzed in and sat across from Billie with arms resting on the chair’s sides. Like a king, he basked in confidence and marked in a heartstopping tone, “Emily. Or Billie. Begin explaining. Now.”

Before Emily could inhale, Billie regurgitated her speech shortly. “I have made the Outsider mortal. His name is Cheyne Sítheach. I helped him come this way to see you and he has been injured since. Only a day ago has he started walking again. Does that satisfy?”

“Billie--” Emily halted and looked to her father.

“His name is Cheyne…?” The chair’s arms groaned at Corvo’s grip. All color lost way to his hands. His tone was unmatched to what Emily was so used to hearing. She could not begin to name what it was. Suddenly, he stood up, tilting the chair backwards. “Where is he?”

“Visiting the gazebo.” Emily complied, sullenly.

Corvo stopped himself from rushing to the door. “H-how do I look?”

Billie coughed, baffled, “How do you look?! What does it matter?! You’re Corvo!”

“... It doesn’t matter because I’m Corvo?” He gazed to Emily who turned away at the contact. He drew back to the center. “No. Please, go on.”

“He’s impossible. Ever since I took him in, he’s been causing me grief--”

Sighing, Emily intervened. “What Billie means, is that he’s someone we cannot begin to understand. Father, he has been so kind and yet there are times where I cannot make him out. I have tried on occasion but I’m not sure what he is. I don’t know where to begin.”

“Don’t interrupt me,” Billie spat, “I know what I say.”

“He doesn’t want it told that way.”

“Is that so? What else doesn’t he want the--”

“Stop that.” Corvo announced. “We will discuss this later with Cheyne. I want to hear every side of this story. No one here should be this miserable. You two will come with me and we’ll all talk with him.” He closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself. Carefully, he held his arm for Emily and then to Billie.

Instinctively, Billie recoiled at the gesture. “If it’s all the same, I’ll just walk beside you.”

“Whatever makes you comfortable.”

She looked to and fro. “You’re just as strange as your daughter, being kind to me.”

“I’ll continue then.” If Emily’s stress did not consumed her, she would have laughed.

For now, Billie held her tongue.

With Nora escorting him, Cheyne wandered throughout the courtyard that held onto it’s last few bright beauties. Cheyne already knew he was deemed odd by servants since none dared touched his skin. They feared him, of course. They feared his voice when he instructed how to handle him. For Nora, he allowed a tender hand under his arm to support him. He proceeded on to saying not to touch him anywhere else aside from his wounds she sponges at night. He hated the clothes they put on him in vain. Royal fabrics felt awful on his skin. Cheyne thrashed and pulled until they were off his body, despite of his wounds. Finally, lighter in weight and appropriate texture was ordered and graced his skin the following morning.   
His behavior earned him to be the name “Entitled Witch” from the gossiping maids. Cheyne kept this to himself, for he had no idea what to do about his situation.

When they reached the gazebo, Nora tugged on his arm. 

“Let’s not disturb her.” Nora commented softly, as if not to disturb the air. Her shining green eyes became dim as they looked to the Empress Jessamine’s memorial. “She was a fantastic queen, but I think her daughter will surpass her one day.” 

“I believe Lady Emily already has.” Cheyne remarked.

“Ah, y-yes, you’re right. Our Empress shines brightly like a star.”

“No, stars die too quickly.”

Nora stood in awe, with curious wrinkles. “Gracious, I never heard of stars dying...”

“She is like fire,” he continued, “if you do nothing with a fire it will continue to grow until rain comes, but Lady Emily moves like flames that are too large to drown. Then she bites back with more fiery than before.”

Looking around, Nora wished to get ahold of another maid. Willingly, she composed herself when she noticed their solitude. She smiled nervously and laughed, “My, you have such an interesting way of thinking.”

“Ever since my arrival, I’ve been given that sentence through various unfamiliar tones. I’m starting to think they are not compliments.”

“Oh! Mr. Sítheach, I did not mean any disrespect!” Cheyne tugged on her arm and Nora gladly took the cue to help him turn around. “Please, believe me, sir. No venom meant!” 

“Belief and forgiveness are not on the same border.” He faced her through a vacant gaze, “I believe you, but I do not forgive you.”

Her face spiraling into disgusted anger. Abruptly, she removed herself from his side so he stumbled for balance and took refuge against a column. “Well, I have never been so insulted and--and disrespected in my life! Can you really not think your talk is so exquisite?! I used to live in Whitecliff and I have never heard anyone talk like you! You look almost thirty! Surely, you know where you’ve come from and why you talk so brashly to everyone--” Something caught her eye that had her gasping. Immediately she knelt on the bricks with her head down. “I am so sorry to disturb the peace, your highnesses...!”

Before gazing up the steps of the tower, he knew Corvo Attano arrived. For in his heart, a sharp chord was struck that reverberated throughout his body which gave such an impact, he fell onto his hands.   
Emily caught and lifted her father back onto his feet. Like a bullet from a barrel, he separated from her touch. Cheyne watched the old protector sprint down and to him, to Cheyne, with such wide strides and dumbfounded glee. Tears had swelled up and broke free and for Cheyne, it was relieving.

He was taken into his arms and pulled deep into his embrace. Into his neck, Corvo moaned, “You’re here…!”

“My dear Corvo...” He wailed. “My dear Corvo...!!”

The Lord Protector brought his hands up to cup his face. He coursed through his hair and smiled at the knots and tangles that clung to his fingers. He hushed Cheyne’s breathless apologies. Moving down, his thumbs caressed over his jaw. They wiped along his cheeks, breaking streams of tears. When Corvo leaned forward, he pressed with a closed mouth against his lips. His beard tickled his skin and gave him shivers. As they broke, another chord burst which spored a violent spark of clarity.

Corvo held him closer, tighter, as Cheyne sobbed and clasped his marked hand, pressing it to his neck.

Finally, Cheyne felt free. 

From minute upon minute, the weight on Billie’s shoulders became agonizing. She looked to the empress, whose face provided trivial emotion. Her father was taken away from her twice, will this be the third? Her mind impulsively contemplated. She jolted, Cheyne? Take Corvo away? How would he and why she consider that? Yet the thought brewed within her.   
Voidance of noise, the world played out in front of her. Emily grabbed Nora. From the servant’s stiff body language and minor hand movements, she was on the brick of discharge. At this point, Corvo gathered the black eyed bastard and led him toward the old table set. A old man used to paint another man's portrait there.   
He had a red coat.   
The painting had been burned. 

Thaddeus Campbell was his name, yes. Sokolov… poor Sokolov… Is he even alive now? No word has been given to anyone whether or not he returned to Tyvia, safely. Yet, Corvo is sitting where he once stood talking to the bastard who Sokolov fantasized and painted

and painted. 

What would he think of this Outsider? What would he say? He would ask Cheyne so many questions. Fuck, Sokolov would have loved him. Sokolov would understand him, possibly, more than Corvo…

He’s too old, Billie finally settled. If not already dead, the journey to Dunwall would kill him. He’s not worth being included in the Outsider’s debauchery. As an aside, she could not bare him to look at her now. No words could explain herself to him. A teacher she admired dearly, supposedly lost and away from the Void.

“Billie?”

Jerking her head up, she darted her gaze towards Emily, Corvo, Bastard, then back to Emily. When Billie realized they were seated at the small table she had been mindlessly staring at, she sighed hotly. “Forgive me. We’re exchanging stories, correct? I was lost in how to put it together.” Her cold gaze shot to Cheyne. “It’s a mess.”

He merely blinked, tilting his head to the left.

Corvo frowned, “Do try to not let your emotions get ahead of you. As well as keep your insults to a minimum, please.”

The please was an afterthought that Billie ignored. “Yes, sir… I found out that Daud was alive and in custody-- so I sought him out at Albarca Baths.”

Billie’s story carried on and even through the unsavory messages the Outsider stabbed into her, her tone held steady. The black eyed bastard and his inquisitive look stung her like a needle pulling thread. She could feel the thread streaking through her throat and out from her skin and muscle and bone repeatedly with that first sharp prick of the needle. To not gag, she paused her story and pressed the glass of water to her lips.

The ice had melted in her drink when her story came to a close and she transferred it over to Empress Emily. Absent from her speech, Billie drifted to Corvo and his coarse countenance. His old eyes still shimmered with young life. Humming to herself, Billie grimaced at the dynamic difference that sat beside him and his daughter. Emily was stunning in a way that she did not look like much of her father aside from the stone eyes that glistened so nicely in the sunlight.  
Upon catching herself, Billie moved her head to ground herself and found Cheyne still gazing at her. She grabbed for her drink but when she found it empty she slammed it back down.

Emily leaned away from the sound. “Do-- you have something to add?”

“What?”

“I was at the end, telling them about you attempted to kill Cheyne.”

As if she had forgotten her surroundings, Billie gaped with knitted brows. Her eyes caught onto the Lord Protector’s, who seemed to be expressing more concern than alarm onto her. With anger bubbling inside her stomach, she turned and slid down, slightly, “I was a fool. When it was over, I wanted to leave but I was caught. That’s all I wanted to add.”

“You were a fool?” Cheyne inquired, craning forward. “I thought that was rational of you with what I said. I do want to apologize to you for going that far.”

Her teeth bared as she grumbled, “And yet it still happened. And it’s the truth. I hate it. Don’t apologize to me about truth. You should know that, or do you not know because your third eye is gone?”

Suddenly, she could feel his spirit draining to the floor at her feet. The cold mush slinked through her shoes and held her there. With his sullen face downcast, he mourned, “It seems apologies to you are all for not. So from now on, I will not give you any apology until you ask for one… Lady Emily, is your story finished?”

Emily shifted her weight but her legs were stiff as if buried in the ground. “... Yes. I put him to bed after everything. Cheyne, I am as curious as Corvo to know your view on this. I want to understand.”

“If that is what you want, then I expect for you as well as Billie to think first before reacting on assumptions. It’s a pattern I’ve noticed since I’ve become human, not just from you two but everyone else.”

“You think it’s our fault that anyone reacts to you that way?” Billie retorted.

“He is not responsible for your reaction to what he says, Billie,” Corvo finished sternly as he avoided the look of awe on Emily and Cheyne. “From your story, I thought you could be capable of knowing that.”

“I am capable of following my own intentions. This bastard is taking that away from me!”

“That is how _you_ chose to take it.”

“I didn’t choose! That’s what he’s doing!! He’s a hypocrite! He used me!!”

“At least, hear him.”

“I’ve been hearing him for long enough. I told you what I’ve seen, why do you think hearing his side will make everything better? It won’t do anything but cement our theories about him. Her highness knows this too despite her modesty. He won’t cooperate with anyone because he ‘chooses’ not to, but I’m sure with Corvo here and his bias bond with _him_ , everything will suddenly be okay. Isn’t that right?”

Emily sucked on her bottom lip as her shoulders dropped.

From his frown, Corvo was at the end of his patience, but then Cheyne opened his mouth, “I agree. I’m selfish. I’ve always been selfish. From my days as a god till now. I did stare out into the sea, how I wished Corvo was beside me because I felt a piece missing in my soul. However, I never made Billie do anything for me. When she left, I decided to go on to Dunwall so that her conscious may be clear and that I could at least have my wish. I did not ask once for anything. She had done much for me already that to ask her for more would feel as if I had taken her for granted. I am awkward. I know this. I had no idea how to talk to Billie and she tried her best for me when in the end I was making her regret.” 

“On that boat, I did play my part as a witch but I could feel as if my old eye was still with me and that the whales were watching me as I had watched over them. I felt like myself there, scaring away those blasted whalers. Then I was cornered by the captain and Billie saved me because, as she said, their screaming had consumed the town. So she stayed with me and tended my wounds. None of this I did not think she had to do. I was more concerned with her safety than my own. In my drunken stupor, and I did not stand on top of a box for the record,” Cheyne hushed Corvo’s premature giggle. “We fought and for my selfish heart I sailed away in hopes she would finally leave me to my possible demise. I did not wish for death that day but if that was the closest I could get to you, I would gladly devour Alec’s sword.”

“I could never ask Emily for any of this either. I suppose with each of our bonds and how confused I have seen them both. I have felt what you have and I can only guess we all have something missing within us. Our bond may be driving you to stay with me and carry me out of harm's way. It makes sense. And so I was yelled at and accused and questioned. I was… I am so tired of that. I wasn’t patient. I don’t think I ever was. I had no idea how to react to any of their words and my silence ended up stirring more confusion and hostility. When I decided to make my own words, Billie pointed a blade at my stomach.”

“I attempted to die that night. I stood on that railing and I was ready to fall. Yet that missing piece called back to me, reminding me how far I have come. If I am to die, it had to be after I see Corvo. I needed to know if he was still there. I needed to know if he felt the same. I do my best, every question, I do my best to answer. I do my best to fill Emily’s wishes for me to be myself and yet yelling reigns through and echos around me. It frightens me. Why don’t my words make sense? I answer and it hurts me in return. I don’t empathy well with others but I would never want to hurt anyone. I’ve never been one for that.”  
“Yet, they are interesting. Every one of you. You are curious to me and here you all are in front of me. Emily and Billie are not against me but I know they are struggling with the concept of me. Tell me, Corvo, since you are of neutral party, what are your thoughts of me? Until now, you have not spoken to me at all. Am I all you remember me being? What am I to you? Am I who I see myself, does your bias show me different, will you let your experience talk for you, or is this as Billie Lurk says? Will nothing change or suddenly become better?”  
“I’m not asking for an answer as of now, I do want you to think about it, Corvo. I do not want anything detering your decision.” His last word came out staggering as he saw a gentle smile crossing Corvo’s face.

“Cheyne, I have been thinking about my decision before you asked me. Let me talk out loud for a moment.” Corvo turned to his daughter and Billie. “Both of you have your points that I completely understand, except we can’t pin everything on one person, can we? After all, each of us have gone through our development arc because of one person and their lackeys. Who do we handle first? You-- don’t need to answer, Cheyne, they know what I mean. Going after Delilah or the Outsider, I can imagine that not being easy. So you gathered information and plotted accordingly. Is understanding Cheyne any harder than your previous feats?”

Billie had her forehead pressed hard against her hands. “Is your father always like this?”

The empress’ gaze was set on her lap. “Proving me wrong by listing the obvious? Yes.”

“I don’t like that. It makes me feel stupid.”

“I’m not trying to make anyone feel stupid. You simply forgot because it’s behind you. To forget your history can doom you to repeat it.” He prodded Billie with his foot, keeping his voice light, “Daud raised you, did he not teach you this?”

“Hmm, we were more focused on other things. Self reflection never appeared on that list.” She shook her head, a small grin plagued her cracked lips, “you’d put him to shame. Last time I checked, royalty didn’t take rotten garbage kids.”

“You’re not a kid anymore. I think a change in perspective would help you, trust me.” To her, he winked. She hummed, absently.

“I want you to answer before I give my own. What do you say, Emily?”

“Well… I’m still confused but I feel a little better. More than anything, I’m amazed.” She held her hand out for Cheyne. With caution, he placed his hand on top. “You’ve always talked like this. Even when you were a god. When I was there, in the Void with you, I could never shake that feel of you talking to me and I gripped at everything to understand you. Then I forgot. Like, I was back where I started. As if you never showed up to me, yet I remembered you and missed you. You were right, I do have a piece missing but… I think it’s been missing for a while. Seeing you here helped me realized that over time.” Worry vibrated in Corvo that Emily moved to his side. Putting her arms around his neck, she kissed the top of his head. “Part of me wants to forget but I won’t. I tried to go to you, Cheyne. I hoped that you could fill it, but I’m not sure that you can.”

Cheyne merely nodded, the corner of his mouth turned upright by a hair.

“I still hate you.” Billie lurched, struggling for words. “I still regret saving you, but I get it. It’s my fault too… Not for… saving you, I mean. Other things.”

“Don’t push yourself.” Corvo’s warning made Billie groan loudly as she fell limp. The Lord Protector took in a final breath and gazed unto Cheyne. He opened his mouth, “You are Cheyne. You are the Outsider, trying to figure out the world around you. That’s how I see you.”

Release.

“I’m sure he felt such a release when Corvo said that. They looked like newlyweds.” Billie admitted in a tisk as she let herself drop onto the loveseat with her limbs spread out.

“What about you?” Emily inquired, indirectly.

Billie lifted her body enough to eye the empress who remained standing. She had been looking out the window the moment they arrived in her office, not a fragment of emotion on her face. Deciding that she said too much, she chose modesty. “I’m exhausted. I’m ready to take a bath, you royalty have some damn good baths.”

Somehow, that gave Emily a marred smile. “I’m glad.” 

Billie took her legs by the knees to her chest. 

“You can leave whenever you’re ready, Billie Lurk. I’ve kept you here too long.”

“... Sounds like you don’t want me to leave.”

“I said when you’re ready.”

Slowly, Billie rose and aimed to be alongside her. She stared out to the sunset that had the skies and ocean look like stardust. She hummed, folding her arms as she eyed at the empress askew. 

“You’re almost as bad as my father.” Emily swore with a drawn out sigh, “I’m exhausted too.”

“Thought so, you can’t be self-effacing with me, highness.”

“I think I’m a bit too worried. Thinking too far ahead, like a child. I shouldn’t be having these thoughts.”

Billie wished this was not part of her own impulsive theory, yet she dared to ask, “Do you think the Outsider is going to take Corvo away from you?”

She gave a humorless chuckle, “it’s so foolish. Why would I think Cheyne want to do that? This isn’t like my situation with Delilah and yet it feels so similar.”

“I’m starting to think this bond we have naturally makes us doubt him and his intentions.”

“He was a god after all… That could play a part.” Billie sagely nodded as Emily continued, “I’m making a fuss over nothing. I really want to think that Cheyne a simple man with simple needs, like he explained to us. He just wants to see Corvo.”

“And now he has, then what?”

“I should talk to him, as soon as possible. Both of them. I can’t have my head get away from me.”

“I don’t think that’s a good conversation to have over dinner.”

“... Morning, then. If I’m lucky I can catch him before he goes into his routine. I still need time on what to say.”

Billie leaned slightly. “Am I free to go?”

“Yes.” She waved her hand absently, still glued to the window. Billie could see through her that a fire had ignited in her heart. Emily slouched from relief at the memory of Corvo enveloping Cheyne into his arms as he wailed.   
The world and us have been so uptight with him. He just wants to feel safe, she concluded with a shake of her head, I need a drink.

“Ch-e-yne...” Although there was aid from the bedside lamp, Cheyne squinted and glided his finger over his mark on Corvo’s hand, looking to each symbol, “no… No, I can’t read it. I did not know it was something _to_ be read. When I created it, perhaps my sleeping conscious formed it to pronounce my name.”

By now, Corvo knew not to give a reply to his out loud thinking.

Tenderly, Cheyne pressed his hand to his lips. Corvo became stiff. His face flushed. Cheyne gave a quiet laugh. “You have not changed at all, Corvo.”

“You’re happier than any other time we’ve met.”

He blinked. “I’ve always been happy to see you. Could you not tell?”

“With your manner, it was. Your smile is a rarity.”

“... I suppose.” Cheyne pouted, discomfited.

“Honestly, I have no idea what to do or what to say. Around you I feel enamored. You know much about me and yet I know so little about you.”

“It is good to know you feel the same as I do for you, but when I require my strength I must leave.”

“Leave?”

“I am a labelled witch, Corvo. People who will see that you are courting a witch will think less of you. I do not wish that upon you and your daughter.”

“I can prove that you are not a witch, easily.”

“How so?”

“You’re holding my hand.”

“Quite.”

“Am I shaking? Screaming in pain?”

“No.”

“You passed the test.”

Stunned, Cheyne hummed yet unsure. “I have always trusted you, Corvo. However, I do not think I belong here. I do not think there is a place where I belong, yet in your embrace I feel secure. Is that irredeemable?”

“Of course not. I am happy to have you close to me.” Corvo moved over from the edge of the bed to his side. “It’s something I had to repress for more than a decade. I have missed you.”

Cheyne answered with a chaste kiss upon his mouth.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” He remarked in a playful manner.

Fear intoxicated him as he sat stiff jointed. “Why?”

Corvo was taken aback, “I-- that just-- You kissing me, I want more of it. That’s all.”

“O-oh, I misunderstood your intentions, forgive me.”

“It’s been a long day for you.” Corvo lovingly patted his hand, “I know I get jumpy when I’m on my wits end.”

“Ah please, stay with me a bit longer-- If you’re able to.”

“I don’t plan to work late tonight.” Leaning in, the Lord Protector nuzzled the spot under his jaw and peppered it with kisses. Cheyne took him by the side of his face and Corvo gave in to his lips.

Day 17 of The Month of Earth 

Emily Kaldwin regretted that drink. For on the break of morning, her head mimicked the feeling of being hit with the blunt end of a pistol, incessantly. It was difficult for her to see let alone hear anyone as she slowly navigated out of her room. Resting at the door frame, she took a moment to collect herself. She recoiled at the harsh light from the drawn back windows. Shielding her eyes, she squinted. There was a figure coming by to her right, tall, masculine, and ruffled. One side hung lower than the other. Only briefly after the man ceased walking did she realize who it was.

“Father?”

His voice came as a wind of concerned disappointment, “Why do you reek of ale?” He gently took ahold of her and guided her to bed. “Well?”

“I showered.”

“Are you sure?”

Emily paused, “I thought it felt like a shower.” She glared up at his skewed clothing and undone buttons. “It looks like you had a good time.”

His unnatural hesitation was duly noted. “I was asleep.”

“With Cheyne?” She inquired quickly.

The two were met with an imperial silence. Her deluded eyes adjusted well enough to see the tightly pursed line upon his lip.

“He fell asleep in my arms and I didn’t want to move.”

“And what’s to belate that innocent answer?”

“I was really hoping you weren’t going to ask me.” He said in sheepish defeat. “My arm is finally having feeling in it again.”

Emily put a hand to her mouth to conceal her newfound laugh. “Fine then. I was drinking because I had too many worries that needed to be silenced.”

“Worries?”

“Childish ones-- I feared Cheyne would take you away, but after mulling it over, all Cheyne wants is a way to cope. I think he finds that in you.”

“Even in a half stupor you are as sharp as ever.” She felt his lips on her temple. “You are absolutely right. In fact, there is something I do want to speak to you about but you seem to be on the verge of consciousness. I’ll ring your maid.”

On the list of entrusted items for the day, after hours prior from tending to Emily, Corvo rushed along side Mr. Layton’s lanky stride towards the small library on the second floor to see what he described as the “witch’s reckoning”.

When the two men stumbled through the entrance, nothing was out of place aside from a couple of book that fell off the table that Cheyne perched himself upon. Out of every person in the room, Cheyne was calm, his arms folded and tone soft as he spoke, “...yet here you are denying to be feasible, Mr. Fey.” 

His new guide and recipient, Mr. Fey, was cowering behind a chair he was aiming at Cheyne.

Corvo huffed, putting a hand to Layton’s shoulder, “A reckoning, you said? This looks like a lecture.”

Mr. Layton’s puffed cheeks grew red in exasperation. “I swear to you, my Lord, that his eyes were set to glow when he looked upon me.”

Offhandedly, Corvo looked to the large window behind them to which Layton followed suit. “That could be from the sun coming in, if I had to venture a guess.”

His shoulder sagged so low that his head bowed. “Sire, please, this is not the time for jokes!”

Waving him away, the Lord Protector pressed into the room and rapt his fist on the table. “Cheyne?” He granted him a glance. “May I step in?”

“What for?”

“You are on the table.” 

“How else will he listen to my reprimand?”

Repressing a grin, Corvo cleared his throat, “Mr. Fey? Please, put the chair down. He won’t hurt you.”

With shaking hands, Fey obeyed his superior and took a gander at the room to avoid Cheyne’s presence. “H-he caught me by surprise, sire. I took his shoulder and that witch shoved me off. It was self defense--”

“He is not a witch and his name is Cheyne. Speak of him as such.” Fey stood erect at his words. “Cheyne has made sure that anyone who wishes to guide him to be instructed to only take him by his arm. You said his shoulder?”

“Y-yes, your highness.”

“I assume since I came in at the end, that Cheyne was relaying this to you?”

“Yes...”

Corvo eyed him up and down before letting out a heavy sigh, “I will find someone else who will abide to him then, since you do not seem eager to redeem yourself.” The Lord Protector held his hands out for Cheyne. “Come down, please.”

With a smile that set his stomach aflame, Cheyne graciously took his hands and stepped down from the stool to the ground.

“My Lord, your hands!” Mr. Layton gasped.

“He is not a witch. Is this not enough proof?”

“But h-his eyes...!” Fey dared not finish his sentence for Corvo etched a steel glare into him.

“We all have a curse that we must tolerate and cope with. I pray you would understand that the most, Fey, Layton.” Once silence stole the conversation, Corvo set his attention to Cheyne. “Would you like to relax here or may I lead you to your room?”

“Thank you, dear Corvo, but I wish to remain here, to read.”

“As you wish. I will return in an hour to escort you to the Banquet Hall.”

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

Billie was gone. The ship the empress granted her was missing from the harbor. Emily let the ocean’s breathing sway her as if she were hanging by a rope. To be caught by the strangest notion, the sound of her heart waned and caved.

The notion trembled and swelled, absorbing her sense of self into a never ending hole.

“She left without saying anything.” Her voice echoed as a whimper in the pit of her mind.

“Does that make you sad?” Emily looked to her side to find the Outsider, floating.

Suddenly, she laughed, “Already have I delved so much into grievance that I am imagining you like this? You don’t exist!”

Scrunching his nose, the Outsider continued, “That’s a brave theory. Why are you sad that Billie did not say goodbye?”

“Common courtesy? But you won’t believe that, would you?”

“Then why do you smile?”

“I--... What would you understand? You’re a figment of my imagination. You know what I know.”

“If that is what you think. I only inquire to understand. Tell me, Emily Kaldwin, do you understand this, yourself?”

“No. I don’t. I hate it.”

“What is ‘it’?”

“I can only assume is what I feel for Billie.”

“You have repressed many things, even subjects that you unconsciously repress. You don’t give thought to them for the reason of why you shouldn’t. What you do deeps so far that its habitual and you don’t acknowledge it. Is this one of them? What do you feel for Billie Lurk?”

“I don’t know what I feel!”

“Then why be sad?”

“I didn’t want her to leave.” Emily folded her hands over her mouth.

The Outsider blinked and tilted his head. “What is that for? Are you ashamed?”

“No, I’m surprised in myself. To keep her here would be unnecessary. She has let everyone know that she wanted to leave.”

“That is correct. As I have told you, it would reflect in your kingdom’s morale if word spread out.”

“And has it?”

“Don’t you remember Nora? She was quite the fighter when you let her off. She did not just have a problem with me, you know. She served your mother and now she is an old woman living on the streets as punishment for treason. I wonder if anyone believes what she has seen here… Or did you repress that as well?”

Emily paused. Drops of memories mimicked a haze. The subject happened after Corvo’s intervention. Emily could see Mrs. Nora’s figure across from her desk, then two figures were on the floor, tangling each other. Was that Corvo?   
“As empress, I do my part to step in. Billie was under my protection as well as Cheyne. I’m just glad Billie didn’t stab her.”

“Hm… I wasn’t there. You never have told me what happened in your office.”

“It does not matter now. She tried to hurt Billie.”

“Why was Billie there?”

“I wanted her there.” Billie was the one being strangled. It was a preemptive attack. Nora was surprisingly strong for her age.

“What for?”

“I needed to talk to her after the business with Nora was finished.”

“Talk about what? You look sad.”

“I’m not sad. I’m angry.”

“Angry?”

“I’m angry at… at what I should have said. While I was with her when I was casted out by Delilah, I developed very deep feelings for her. To present, they are still complicated. Must I act so childish?”

“I do not think it childish. I think it would be childish if you assumed she felt the same for you. Do you assume that?”

“No. I don’t.”

“To be caught up in your own feelings seem to be normal for humans. Maybe you should take some time for yourself?”

Emily turned towards him to see that she had not been speaking to the Outsider in her mind. Cheyne shared her confused gaze. “Are you mad?”

“Of course not… Oh, Cheyne.” Carefully, she took his hand and squeezed. “You are so sweet to me. Thank you.”

“Oh… you thanked me?”

“I should thank you more often. How are your wounds?”

Although his face held growing puzzlement, Cheyne answered, “Better. My dear Corvo was concerned as well. I think he is still looking for you. I told Mr. Fey to find a book so that I may see you after we heard Billie left abruptly. Speaking of Mr. Fey, he shares the same qualities as Mrs. Nora and Mr.--”

Emily was smiling now. “Since I cannot find a suitable caretaker for you, I think Corvo would not mind in the least to help you a little. Here, Cheyne.” She held out her arm for him to which he slowly took. “Let’s not worry Corvo further.”

Day 17 of The Month of Harvest 

Arriving within a few days was a dance held in the tower bigger than any party prior. The quantity of festivities gave everyone a chance to stop chirping like nervous birds about the “witch” in their mists. However, the theories have died down significantly. As Cheyne healed, servants found him walking on his own and offering assistance. The thought of a witch wishing to help than command eased their suspicions but not entirely.

“That Witch is a sneaky one.” One of the older servants gossiped as they folded sheets.

“I’m not sure about that, if I’m honest.” The other countered, “He has fancied Corvo since arrival. They know each other quite a bit. So does the Empress.”

“Hexes, got to be under him’s spell!”

“Come off it, the injured soul looks to be living under a bridge his whole life. Can’t even smile right, the poor thing.”

The dignified posh walls caved inwards, crushing the piano in the main foyer where a man had once moaned and drank over. Cheyne staggered at the rapturous sound of dissonant keys and he leaped back. At a safe distance, he watched the already disrupted room now become graced with brilliant sunlight. Aramis Stilton’s Manor, although barely, glimmered with void intentions. Cheyne dared not to venture further where the ritual for Delilah took place. It was tainted. This whole manor is tainted.

Why am I here. The question never entered his head. Transparent apparitions of Stilton strung themselves around the house. They screamed for Cheyne, pleading, begging for a return that will never come.

“The Outsider is gone.” He pushed, hushing the fragments of a desperate man. “Only I remain.”

A finger outstretched towards him, pointing at the space between his brows. The spirit did not move, it did not question him further. It poked his third eye. Suddenly, air drained from his lungs and his heart stopped beating.

“You changed this world by leaving.”

A thousand voices all at once flooded into his ears like a wave before receding from him. Cheyne opened his eyes and found nothing but blackness. The wound on his neck reopened and the responding blood oozing through his skin.

“Put it back.” They came.

“I’ve come too far. It is unnecessary to go back.”

Through the eyes of a dead god, he saw those cults that assaulted him and forced him into a deity. They were there. In the void. Rebuilding it brick by brick.

“They know you are among us.”

One cultist turned towards his eye and gasped. Cheyne watched him bolt down the terrain towards his superiors.

“They will try again.”

Inside the walls of Corvo’s quarters, aged music emitted softly through the walls. The song verbally crackled while careening in circles. Cheyne stepped on Emily’s foot for the upteenth time and the music screeched to a stop.

“Please forgive me, Lady Emily!” Cheyne bowed as he gasped breathlessly, glaring down at his shoes.

“And I’m beginning to think we cannot amend that...” Emily smirked at the irony. “Unable to dance at your own engagement ceremony, what a pity.”

His frown deepened on his face. “I dance fine!” Cheyne stole Emily’s hands and stepped into the waltz again, counting aloud in queer frustration. Muffled laughter panged his heart into submission. The two looked to Corvo, who removed his hand from his mouth and instead adjusted the collar of his coat as if seeming to appear more regal.   
Corvo remarked after an ahem, “Perhaps, we should try something different. Your heart isn’t in this, Cheyne.”

“I prefer to be a flower on the wall than dance in the pavilion.” 

“No, no, I’m not allowing that. You are to be shown off and prove to the public of who you are. It was something Jessamine wanted to do with… me, when you would become empress, Emily.” Seeing Emily forced a smile, Corvo gathered her into his arms. “I’m not allowing you to be upset either.”

“... Thank you, father.”

“As for you, Cheyne.” He eyed him quizzically after seeing him flinch. “What is bothering you? Is the ceremony too much for you?”

“I can handle this as well as you can, dear Corvo, if you wish me to be. A party like this can be favorable, unless an unfavorable member snaps out of line. I still advice security.”

“Let me rephrase. Are you happy here?”

Cheyne blinked a few times. “Can you not tell by the lines on my face?”

“You aren’t smiling… or relieved, Cheyne.” Emily pointed out. “You haven’t been present lately.”

“I have attending all that either of you have.”

“Present as in, living in the moment. You look like you are in deep thought than listening to what is happening around you.”

“The servants vainly cling to their skeptical ways. I am still branded a witch. Your cook has asked the bartender if I had any poisons I favored. Mrs. Garten gossips endlessly about ruffians surveying the castle and how the guards have the few locked up. I listen, Lady Emily.”

Corvo took in a sharp breath. “Cheyne… Firstly: poison is another word for alcohol.”

“I believe I can understand why due to the aftereffects.”

“Secondly: I know when a man is struggling with nightmares.”

Cheyne turned in surprise. “What have you heard?”

“Heard?”

“Billie Lurk has expressed that I talk in my sleep. What did you hear?”

“Why, nothing. What do you dream of?”

“Mere nightmares. They share with me futures that do not exist. Yet I do worry about the consequences of their chances. However, I deem myself safe here alongside the both of you.”

Emily shook herself out of her daze. “Well… I am glad you trust in us so greatly… I can’t help thinking. I don’t think you lost your third eye, Cheyne. It may be more present in your sleep than when your conscious.”

Cheyne mulled her words around his head. “Perhaps. Or perhaps I am paranoid.”

“Cheyne, if you need reassurance, I will oblige you.”

“... Be on watch for anyone wearing matching white attire throughout this party. This will be a large event. They will seem inconspicuous if they come one by one. Masked.”

Corvo dipped his head. “If that will help you be comfortable.”

“That is quite reminiscent of a party I remember you telling me of, Corvo.” Emily prodded. “It was easy to distinguish the Boyle's for you, wasn’t it?”

“I may have gotten a tip from the Pendleton Twins while I sought for you, Empress.”

Cheyne nodded, accepting the memory of Corvo pacing along the marbled floor as if he truly belonged within those walls. “The wine, I’m sure will be better here than at the Boyle’s. You looked worse than a Weeper.”

Corvo groaned at the thought. “It will be a lot better. Definitely.”

“If you have peace of mind now, Cheyne, would you like to continue practicing?”

“... I would very much like that, your Ladyship.”

“If you are going to be part of our family, Cheyne, you may address me as Emily.”

“Emily, then.”

“Always so blunt,” Corvo teased mostly to himself. He patted his daughter on her shoulder. “Since I have new orders to distribute, I will leave you two… I’m proud of both of you, by the way, for keeping your chins up through your inner turmoil.”

“Corvo has grown soft due to my arrival.”

“No. He always had that side.”

“You would know best, Lady Emily.”

“Emily.”

“Yes.”

“Nevermind.” She gently moved the spindle back into place and proceeded to bow to Cheyne. In return, he bent from the shoulders, but when he lifted upright he saw an eye. His own eye in place of Emily. Through it, he saw them.

“The Outsider has lost his touch. How, that must be remedied.”

Day 20 of The Month of Harvest 

For this engagement ceremony to be masked was for suspension. The true purpose for this part was only beknown to the most trusted members of the tower. Titled Lord Protector, Corvo stood, erect upon his marker and surveyed the crowd carefully. He greeted each guest a handshake for the men and a kiss on the wrist for the women.

His eye keenly watched the first masked woman cladded in white be nonchalantly taken aside for a random checking. Oddly enough, she was compliant and encouraged the search.

“Masks hides fear incredulously, don’t you think, Lord Protector?” Cheyne, behind a black birdlike mask himself, examined. His sharp tongue quick to catch his thoughts. 

Crackling a smile, Corvo nudged him with his foot. “Am I being called on?”

“Yes, Lady Emily has taken her place.” 

Corvo shook hands with a familiar looking man. The embroidered blood red mask’s, with horns that curled into themselves, left eye was as black as night while the right eye was uncovered and glistened with a brown hue. As Cheyne unclenched his jaw, Corvo gathered him away from the spilling crowd and towards the dance hall.

“You should have kissed her hand, Corvo.”

“Excuse me?”

“You shook hands with a well disguised Billie Lurk.”

When Corvo decided to look about him, the man in the glimmering red mask was gone. “How are you sure?”

“Her eye, Corvo. She had on an eyepatch. Anyone at a masked ball should not be concerned with their eyes.”

“Cheyne, you never cease to amaze me… I must be losing my touch.”

Cheyne flinched at the phrase and swivelled to a halt. “I would like fresh air. Lead me.”

“Of-- course.”

As they stepped out unto the balcony, civilians were littered and rested upon the secure railing, talking amongst themselves.

Cheyne said, hushed, “My dear Corvo, I beseech you to be absolutely careful with what you say.”

“What did I say…?”

“An awful phrase. You are not losing anything. Don’t you dare say that.”

“Ch-Cheyne, I was only--”

“I can’t stand to hear you speak to yourself so--so deprecated.”

“I wanted to make you laugh. You’re tense.”

“You failed.”

“I--Yes, I know, I did. May I apologize?”

“... Yes.”

Corvo lifted his mechanical mask up to kiss the edge of Cheyne’s lips. “I’m sorry.”

“You are forgiven.”

After a moment of breathing in the ocean air, Corvo prompted him. “How would you like to handle this, Cheyne?”

“Handle what? Specify.”

“You are my husband to be. We should dance. I’ll keep you close and have a keen eye on you at all times.”

“You better. I would hate to see you ogling at another.” Cheyne remarked flatly, he then looked to Corvo. “That was teasing. Did I do that right?”

Before guiding him along back into the hefty crowd, Corvo squeezed his hand. “You did.”

“Should we tell Emily about Billie Lurk’s sudden appearance?”

Smirking, Corvo invited a smug laugh, “I think it’s best for her to find out, instead.”

A guard hidden behind the wall from the door to the balcony stepped forward, whispering, “Lord Protector.” They urged closer. “We have apprehended at least four of these people in white. Only one of them had a dagger on them. He won’t say his name but he is in the interroga--”

Cheyne erased the space between himself and the soldier. “What did the dagger look like?”

His shoulders arched upright. His voice began with an unsteady stemble. “A normal dagger, sir. Here, I had it confiscated. Lord Protector, shall I put this somewhere?”

“Yes, and take another man with you to watch your back. We can’t have chaos. Report to me when he snaps. Our ceremony will not begin until we know names and appearances.”

“As you wish, my lord.”

Corvo turned to see Cheyne search the dagger. The guard squinted at the witch. “Is there something wrong?”

“It is not the same dagger they have used on me before.” He looked towards the etchings. “A pity, I have forgotten how to read this writing.”

“Writing?”

“Language of the dead.”

“Latin?”

“No, good soldier. There is a difference between a dead language and a language for the dead. Latin is the prior… Still--” Cheyne held his thought and handed the dagger back to the guard. “Thank you. Your work is appreciated.”

His stiff posture laxed slightly at his words. The guard bowed a little at the two. “Of course… soon-to-be highness.” He hid the dagger within his inside pocket and beckoned another soldier.

Corvo clapped him on the back. “That was a very good start.”

Cheyne wrung his hands as if to get the texture of the leather base off his skin. “Thank you, dear Corvo.”

Indeed, Billie Lurk slinked around in stolen clothes, keeping her lips mute. She never left for Karnaca. She hid within the walls of Dunwall for answers. The void fragments that made up her arm quaked in anticipation. She could not reason herself to not come to this event. Something wrong was bound to take place here. Her hatred for Cheyne held stagnant, but her worry consumed her mind.

A few days ago, she felt those cultists leave the void. They knew she was here too. Fortunately, blending in with crowds was her specialty. Pickpocketing was her second best ability. Daggers, each one wielded a dagger. However, she did miss one but the guards had dragged him out of the room for her. For questioning, she interpreted. Cheyne won’t be able to wait any longer. Whatever this event was, she knew he would want to end quickly. 

Cheyne did not bother to conceal his voice while Corvo and Emily have no reason to. This was an important event for them, but for Cheyne? It could spill his blood. He was easy to spot, since he was forever beside Corvo. A smart, however, predictable move. Anyone who knew how to distract would be able to seperate them. So, Billie kept watch by becoming a flower on the wall. She only moved when Corvo moved.

And when they did, they drew closer to her position. Staying put, she mindlessly twirled the wine glass in her hand. Although her gaze was on the crowd of dancers, her attention honed upon the Lord Protector as he… left Cheyne beside her.

She couldn’t tell if he was smiling behind that beak. “I hope the wine suits you better here than in Karnaca.”

Billie sighed, “What you did was stupid. Why are you here?”

“You want to protect me. You have a piece of what’s left. Tell me what you think will happen here, B--”

“Don’t say my name in public.” She hissed, “I think they might be here to kill you instead of putting you back into godhood.”

“You have been collecting knives as of late, yes? Corvo would like you to take them to the nearest soldier. I will talk. You are one of Emily’s finest men. Act like one and be silent.”

Billie bit her cheek as she trudged behind him.

“None of them are the same dagger that--”

He whipped around. A steady pebble dropped into a still lake that rippled to the edging lines of sand. “Silence.” His calm tone set her skin shivering. She wondered if it was only her that saw the world freeze in time with his word.

Donned in a muted psychedelic mask, Emily Kaldwin glared after the man clad in red who followed Cheyne so swiftly out of the room. Before she could step down from her spot, Corvo caught her hand. “I’m disappointed you’re not dancing, Empress.”

“And is that so clever?”

“He is in trusted hands. In fact, I think you two would have much in common.”

“Corvo, what are you saying right now?”

“Enjoy yourself, Emily, and let me worry. Come, everyone will think something is wrong if you are not dancing with someone.” Begrudgingly, Emily was pulled along to the main floor.

“You worry enough for all of Dunwall. Share that burden with me, please.” She continued the conversation into his ear.

“They won’t be long, I know this. We have our eyes hidden within the walls, Lady Emily. Everything is going fine.”

“Don’t say that now.”

“What’s a life like this without expecting risks? This will be an unforgettable night.”

“Under what status?”

“Love, luster… no abrasions.”

“I’ve never seen you like this. Talking with a twinkle in your eye. You are so sure of yourself.”

“When you become my age, Empress Emily, you’ll learn to trust yourself.”

“And if you are wrong?”

“I’m quick to adapt.” He nodded. “As are you.”

Emily spun her head and saw Cheyne return safely with this mysterious red man. “That’s a relief.” She found Corvo soon leading her over to them. 

Billie struck herself silent and cursed at Corvo as he spoke. “Well?”

“We have a list.” Cheyne flourished a paper towards him. “It seems he was not easy to talk. These may not be real names or appearances but some have matched with the newer few they have in custody.”

Emily peered at the list brief until Corvo folded the paper into his chest pocket. “Very well. Cheyne stay by me.” Billie could see his eyes crinkle with smug glee. “And you, you would be most honored to be the first to dance with Empress Emily, if you so wish.”

“Lord Protector, you are being most irresponsible.” Emily remarked, exasperated.

“Nonsense. If I trust him with Cheyne, I can most assuredly trust him to you, can’t I?” Without another word, Corvo stole Cheyne away from pressing on the conversation. Billie Lurk and Emily Kaldwin locked eyes. Billie shrunk at the unexpected surprised gleam to be soon relieved at her doubtful expression.

“Forgive me. I thought you were someone else.”

Out of courtesy, Billie held out her hand.

“... A man of few words.” When she took her proposal, she noticed the hand concealed by a glove did not feel human. The fingers held a heavy weight. Finally, the previous thought expressionlessly sunk in. “I can tolerate that.” 

“Um--”

“I’m teasing. Relax.” She smiled and led Billie through the thicket of people. The heartbeat in Billie’s ears pounded so loud that it was giving her a headache. The Empress held her by the shoulders. As she was disguised as a man, Billie begrudgingly guided her into a stiff waltz.

“You have never danced, have you?”

Billie nodded in affirmation.

“I find it fairly simple to learn. Do you know what I keep in mind?” Emily paused as if waiting for a reply. “Forget where you are. Who you are. Only briefly. That’s when something grabs hold of you. You feel like you cannot stop smiling when it controls you.” Billie spun Emily into her, her back pressed against her chest. “Have you ever felt that?”

Billie shook her head.

“We have nothing to worry for. Why not risk this moment?”

“You play too nicely with fire, Empress...” Billie croaked, lowering her tone.

“So, you can speak. Tell me with your newfound voice, what has brought you here? You are certainly not a conversationalist from your curt answers and standoffish posture.”

“I suppose I had a feeling.” She slipped her hands onto her waist. “You must have it too.”

“Describe it for me.”

“His royal pain is soon to be endangered if he cannot think as he should.”

“I feel as if everything is bounding too smoothly.”

“They lack their powers such as we do, but he knows something we don’t.”

“Corvo?”

“Cheyne. What has Corvo told you?”

“To put my mind at ease, everything is going right.”

“He’s a liar.”

“I know when my father lies. In that moment, he wasn’t.”

“I’d urge you to look closer.”

“I trust you, but Corvo is more experienced than the two of us.”

Billie laughed softly to herself. “You, of all people, trust me? You barely know me.”

“Perhaps. You deciding to show yourself around me was definitely unexpected, yet I feel more at peace now that you are.”

“What about me is peaceful, Empress?”

“The way you move me.” Billie momentarily dipped her down. “You’ve gotten comfortable.”

“... How astute of you.” Pulling Emily up, she invited herself to be closer to her masked face. “And how has the Empress been unable to realize the position she’s in?”

“I have realized. I simply have no notion to care.”

“You’re just like him, playing with unnecessary risks.”

“I find life to be more nourishing that way.” Emily moved Billie’s mask up slightly to caress her cheek with her lips. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye this time.”

“Will you throw a royal tantrum if I do?”

“And dare face the consequences?”

“I suppose I can behave.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Corvo could tell that Cheyne was getting antsy. He had already plucked one of the coat buttons off its seem by mindlessly spinning it. Corvo put a hand on his back. “How do you feel?”

“Hopeless.”

“... I will start the announcement then.”

Cheyne caught his arm and tugged him. “Be alert. They kill for him. Do anything to bring him back. Do not die for me, Corvo. I forbid it.”

Corvo clasped his soon-to-be husband’s hands into his palms. “Cheyne. Have you seen anything else?”

“I can feel their eyes. They are staring at us, waiting for this moment. They are smarter than you think, Corvo. They could be listening to us, right now.”

Corvo longed to give him rest. The dark circles under his eyes were unable to be hidden before he donned the mask. Corvo squeezed his hands before releasing them. “I can adapt.”

The fragment of the void vibrated in submission at hearing an announcing clang. The music paused instantly and the world stood still. Billie searched around and found each face frozen in time again. 

“Shit.” Emily brushed her aside and shoved through the statues of people towards the front where Corvo and Cheyne stood, unmoving. 

Billie Lurk found her eyes locked in place with Cheyne. The same blackish ooze that bled from his shoes encased her footing.

Silence, Billie Lurk. It told her. Sleep now. Our Outsider has returned and we are part of him.

“No!” Launching herself into the air, she ran and jumped from shoulders to heads of the frozen partygoers until she was in front of Cheyne and she knocked him to the ground from the force of her momentum. He laid defenseless at her heels. The glove and sleeve shredded into pieces as her sword formed out of her arm. She glanced over to see Corvo on the floor with his daughter over him, her blade ready to strike.

Gazing outward, the crowd of masked civilians vanished and who remained were five clothed in pristine white.

“The Void feels so strong here...” Emily looked to her gloved hand to find that the Outsider’s mark was not glowing. She heaved, disappointed, “You are not taking him back. The world doesn’t need him.”

Billie cut an eye over at her.

“Foolish Empress! The world has changed without him. Without him, there is no purpose!”

“Then be put out of your misery!” 

Suddenly, Billie grabbed Cheyne and hoisted him up in a way that position his neck, prominently. Her sword caressed his trembling skin. Emily stumbled to a halt half way down the steps and stared dumbstruck.

“Touch the Empress and I’ll remove his head from his shoulders.”

“Billie!”

“Drop your weapons!” She pressed the blade closer to his throat. Cheyne gasped in her ear before falling limp in her embrace.

The five cultists threw their guns and swords to the floor. The cultist in charge, the man in the middle, stepped forward. “I beseech you, we will not harm anyone if you give us The Outsider.”

“I doubt that. Emily, search their pockets.”

“They will be more of us to hurt you if you do not submit him!” The cultist on the far right shouted, bending down for her pistol. Emily took her blade and plunged it into her skull. She then kicked the dead woman off of her sword. Emily muttered, pushing the weaponry out of their reach. “This isn’t your realm.”

“Don’t think yourself smart by your royal status, your Ladyship.”

“Watch your tongue!” The leader slapped the cultist on his left.

Billie glanced at the three entrance ways. “You’re waiting for the rest of them, aren’t you?”

“Only children blessed by the Void can see and move in this state. The Void is strong here for one reason. You brought us all here. Our collective energy burns splendidly. You want it back, Empress Emily. I know you do.”

“Talk of temptation will not stir me. Billie, please, what is your plan?”

“Yes, what the hell do you have in mind?” Corvo’s rasp etched into her brain directly coarsed throughout her spine. She swallowed her fear and sustained her grip on Cheyne.

“I’m keeping Cheyne from killing himself. I watched him steal a knife from one of the guards.” Billie squeezed his wrist and Cheyne retaliated with a breathless grunt. The dagger in his hand fell and trembled as it hit the floor. “Corvo, if you’d like to do your job, hurry up.”

As Corvo bolted from their side, Cheyne writhed in her hold but was stuck still when Billie lightly poked his flesh.

“Do you have an objection?” She countered Cheyne, her lips dripped with venom.

“This is not clever. I will find other ways.”

“As if you would leave your ‘dear Corvo’ behind.”

“If it permits his safety, yes, I would. Call him back, now!”

“Don’t yell so loud, unless you want to get him killed!”

Sighing, Cheyne rested his head upon her shoulder. “I feel as if we are in the same position as before. Perhaps, you should have killed me.”

“I am a different person than who I was then.”

“You agree you regret it then?”

“... I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.” Four more cultist who escaped from the interrogation room entered through the hall door. “How about we make a deal, Billie Lurk? I will grant myself safety if you go down there and help them. I won’t end my life. If you do not accept the deal, the two of us can watch the people we love die, the fog will lift, you will be sent to a hanging, while I once again become a god. Do we have a deal?”

“Fucking--” Billie shoved him off her, “Fine!‘

Cheyne swayed slightly as he viewed the battle. Casually, as if he were alone, he swiped the dagger from the floor, and he sauntered a step lower and withdrew a long slender sword. At the sight of one of the cultists slinking her way after him, he brought the dagger to his stomach and she stopped moving.

Slowly, Cheyne produced the borrowed sword, directing at her, as he plunged in the dagger into his gut. Haggard, the cultist released her gun and stood on her knees, her arms hung limply at her sides.

“If you take me from here, my death will accelerate. I will not allow any more blood to spill from my body to make an empty shell.” Cheyne look to his friends in combat. The captain of the cultists had already been slewed. “Your morale is low, yet you still fight. Do you think me godlike, even as a mortal?”

The cultist nodded with exasperation.

Cheyne lowered his armed hand. “I have a proposal for you, if you give yourself in to listen.”

Without questioning his intentions, the cultist replied, “Anything, another blessing from you would be most gracious!”

“I shall bless you with eternal peace of mind and body. A lack of what this world gives. Pick up your gun and raise it to your head.”

The clanging of metal abruptly swamped by silence as the cultist place the end of the pistol to her head. 

“... Fire.”

“Thank you, may you to find happiness in this bleak world, wonderful Outsi--.” With a condescending bang, the mask collapsed to the floor and crushed into two by the weight of her body.

You picked a side for once, his own thoughts cooed, how does it feel?

“Good.” He answered, addressing the rest of the surviving cultist. At his gaze, one of them unpromptedly plunged his own sword into his chest and fell with a following clatter of his mask. Raising a brow, Cheyne spoke, “would the rest of you like to follow into their steps or do you have something else in mind? However, you think my blessing will reach to you best.”

That was sarcasm, however, since his voice was steady and unfeeling, the conspiring cultists proceeded to either run away or already grabbed a weapon and were now sprawled on the ground in a useless mass under the crowd’s shoes.

Corvo reacted first and fled to Cheyne’s side and held him close in his embrace and lifted him off the floor as guards flooded the dance foyer out of confusion and grabbed at corpses that seemingly spawned out of thin air. Unattractive hushes flourished from person to person as they surveyed the scene before them in horror and intrigue. Billie Lurk secured her disguised face and drug the lady’s corpse out of the room by her foot, following the other soldiers.

“I can’t seem to take you anywhere, Cheyne.” Corvo steadied him before carrying him out of the room. However, Cheyne stopped him.

“You need to do it now. I’ll be fine.”

“Cheyne--”

“I am in your arms, dear Corvo. I have never felt safer.”

Shaking his head, Corvo removed his mask, “This was how you planned this all along, wasn’t it?”

“Not exactly… I planned off myself… this seems better than my previous intentions.”

“Even when you are mortal, you are still a man of mystery.” 

“How gracious of you to say.” Cheyne grunted, whimpering. “Do hurry, I am in pain.”

“People of Dunwall, while I too am not sure what we have seen, but what I do know is that this man who lays in my arms just the life of our dear Empress, mine, and a fellow soldier from these white clad assassins. I tell you not to leave in fear but to rejoice in his accomplishment on this night.” Unexpected to Cheyne’s ears, there was a resounding cheers that surrounded him. Unfortunately, he felt too weak to cloak his head from the entourage of sound. Corvo raised his voice loud enough to quiet the yells and applause. “We actually had a difference evening planned for all of you tonight. This very event was to be where I announce my engagement with this very man before one attempted to us both.” Laughter ensued to confused the sickly Cheyne. He wondered if he was hallucinating. “Before we continue on as we have before, I would like you introduce him to all of you.”  
Corvo lifted his mask from his face as he announced. “His name is Cheyne Sitheach.”

The ocean air tainted her lungs full of led. Billie Lurk recounted her supplies. It was enough for a trip to the other side of Dunwall. Karnaca was a dead city to her, thanks to Cheyne. She wondered, after a restock, if she should venture to Tyvia for a fresh life. Maybe, she could learn to paint. She laughed at the idea.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

Billie gazed behind her to see Emily’s emotionless face. Billie scoffed and dropped down from the small ship. “I happen to be waiting for a stuck up Empress who thinks I owe her for leaving.”

“No, I owe you. You didn’t have to come back. It… must have been hard for you. I want to thank you. You saved his life.”

“You’re… welcome. Is that all?”

“I think you should at least see Cheyne before you leave. He’d want to thank you too.”

“You are not dragging me back there, Emily Kaldwin.”

“You say that as if I’m misleading you?”

Her body stiffened at her remark. “... I think too much.”

“Billie, if you were not branded a criminal, would you be packing up?”

“Yes.”

Emily blinked. Her eyes squinted to attempt to read her expression in the moonlight. “You hide something then.”

“You are not permitted to coax it out of me, Empress. I’ve stayed here too long.”

“Yet you know that I feel the same about you as you do with me. You are fine with leaving that untouched?”

“You and Corvo were lucky enough to have Cheyne accepted into your society. I am not so fortunate. No one forgives criminals who have nothing left. Your father has it easy, unlike the rest of us.”

“... Billie Lurk, this is one of my ships. Which is still under my command, if I see it leave port without my say so, I will send more after you.”

Sighing, Billie rubbed her temple, “By the Void, what now?”

“You may leave but under one condition.”

Billie eyed her through uncertainty. “You’ll get caught.”

Emily glanced around the docks. Only a few night guards were posted and patrolled the edges of the pier. Billie followed her gaze up along a narrow rocky path up to a metal door that was camouflaged among the wall. “There’s a hidden door to an enclosed part of my room that only I can open. No one will disturb us. No one will hear us.”

Emily glared at her impish smirk as Billie remarked, “Are you afraid of being too loud, Empress?”

“No, actually. I’d retort but I think we both know that answer, given your personality.”

“Oh-ho, my personality? Am I supposed to be offended by that?”

“Whatever gets you under me, Billie Lurk.”

Finally, genuine honesty that was not disguised as a flirt. “All you have to say is ‘please’ and keep up your high and mighty Empress act, Emily Kaldwin; I’ll be happy.”

“So, you want to be commanded, then? I can’t promised to be too experienced with that.” Emily smiled at Billie’s laughter. “You do have a sense of humor.”

“That isn’t good. I don’t get comfortable with people, normally.”

Carefully, Emily entangled her fingers along Billie’s hand. “It’ll just be for tonight… unless you’re tempted to stay.”

Billie Lurk took the move as an opportunity to close the gap between them. “How dare you admit that in front of me. A hissy fit from you when you wake up with me gone would be more satisfying.”

“And you won’t be there to see it even if I did throw a tantrum. I don’t see how you could find that satisfying.”

“... I’m not the best at japes.”

“At least, you’re being honest with yourself.” Emily tugged the front of Billie’s suit. “It’s best that we get this off you. May I asked who you stole this off from?”

“Stealing, Empress? Like, I have never done that in my life...”

“His unconscious body was discovered behind the flower beds.”

“... Usually, people don’t look behind hedges.”

“I think, they had you in mind when on patrol, Billie. You did give them a stir.”

“You are delaying this…”

“I enjoy taking the company of the real comfortable you. Knowing you, I thought it would be better if I were more mindful of your perspective.”

“Emily Kaldwin, you really are playing for keeps.”

“... Just, Emily, from you. No other names or titles.”

“As you wish then, Emily.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really shouldn't take a year to write a single fanfic, but at least it's a first one to start the Chinese new year off right. Happy 2019, y'all :)


End file.
